


Scream 2.5: Puzzle Pieces

by MeganRosenberg



Series: Scream 2: Megan Rosenberg's Re-Writes [2]
Category: Scream (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Murder, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Death Threats, Drama, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Murder, Original Character Death(s), Sexual Violence, Stabbing, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-07-16 07:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 57,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganRosenberg/pseuds/MeganRosenberg
Summary: During the summer of 1998, another series of murders shakes the town of Woodsboro and reunites Gale and Dewey whose relationship is at present a little rocky. As Gale and Dewey try to solve the case while having difficulty communicating with each other, the sadistic killings continue and escalate. The killer seems to have a specific target in mind, and this time, it isn't Sidney.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Important Plot Details: This is a sort of sequel to my story "Scream 2, Take 2," but it's very easy to follow even if you haven't read that one. (If you do want to read that one first, stop right here and go read it. I'm about to spoil various plot points of "Scream 2, Take 2"... so if you don't want to know who lives or dies and who is the killer in my version, now's the time to turn around.)
> 
> This story is basically what comes after my version of Scream 2 - which isn't so far removed from the movie Scream 2, except that Randy's sister Martha and Sidney's dad Neil were killed in my version and Randy lived. Gale's camera man (an original character I created) was the killer. His motive was wanting attention and fame, more or less. This story mentions parts of that one, but not really that much. It can fairly easily be a stand-alone story. You've just got to remember that Randy isn't dead and the killer last time was Gale's camera man. That's basically all that remains very relevant for this story.
> 
> Takes place the summer after the events of "Scream 2, Take 2." (So probably no more than nine months later.) The events in that story are assumed to have taken place, but won't be heavily relevant to this story. The only sort of important characters I killed in my previous story are Martha Meeks and Neil Prescott. Neither of them played a large role in any film, so this story should be very easy to follow even if you didn't read my other. Events from "Scream 2, Take 2" will be lightly referenced, but nobody changed or grew too much in that story - they're all still the characters we know from Scream and Scream 2. Again - this focuses mostly on Gale and Dewey. I'd say Randy is the third biggest of the canonical characters in this story, but his role isn't that big and happens near the end. If you're Sidney or Cotton's biggest fan, I'm sorry to say their roles are very small. They're in here, but not much. This story isn't really about them. I know that might kinda suck... Cotton's actually one of my very favorites of the Scream characters, but he just doesn't fit in well here. I tried to fit him and Sidney in more when I was outlining what I wanted to happen, but this story already almost has too many plot points. Finding a way to involve them much more than they already are might destroy the story by making it way too bloated and difficult to follow. With the necessary original characters I've created to make this plot work, Sidney, Cotton, and Randy just don't fit into it that well. I found a way to include Randy in a way that I actually ended up really liking, but the others just couldn't work.
> 
> I have a definite plan here - Twenty chapters (might get slightly longer or shorter in the editing process - as chapters sometimes merge or break in half depending on how that goes,) but this story is much more mapped out than my previous one. I know exactly what I'm doing this time. It's actually finished besides editing as I write this - so there won't be any multiple-year gap in publishing like I did last time. I don't know how many people are still reading Scream stories anymore... but I mostly write just to entertain myself, so I guess if no one reads this, that's okay. I hope people do, but if not, I'll have it published for myself, so I can go back and read it in a couple years when I forget about it a little.
> 
> Sorry for all of that. I have a habit of over-explaining.. Anyway here you go. Enjoy:

xxxxxx

Chapter 1

xxxxxx

Skylar sighed as she stared up at the ceiling in her boyfriend's bedroom. She had been spending a lot of time at his house lately, mostly because her sister had become insufferable. It wasn't really Amy's fault. Her life had kind of spiraled into a mess lately, but that didn't make being around her any less terrible. Skylar was as empathetic as she could be, but sometimes she just needed to get away.

"What's wrong, Sky?" Her boyfriend asked, looking up at her from his position on the floor.

Skylar shook her head. "Nothing. You just need to get a better selection of CDs. We've listened to all these like fifty times. And they aren't even that good the first time."

Tyson laughed. "Sorry. You could have brought some of yours over."

"Maybe next time. I'm not about to go back now. Not with Mom and Dad bitching at Amy all night. Once they get started, it doesn't stop."

Tyson offered a tight, sympathetic smile. "How's she doing?"

Skylar shrugged. "Okay, I guess. She's never happy anymore. Maybe she's just never going to be again." Skylar didn't like to think about her sister. Amy just wasn't the same person she used to be. She was always stressed and angry and bitter. "Let's talk about something else." Skylar suggested.

"Have you chosen your book for English?" Tyson changed the subject to seemingly the very first thing he thought of.

Skylar smirked. "You're such a nerd."

Tyson gave her a cute puppy-dog pout. "You wanted to talk about something else..."

"It's summer break, Ty. We don't have to have our books read until school starts. Of course I haven't chosen it yet. I'm literally going to read it the day before the first day... If I even read it at all. We don't have to write anything, so I can probably just skim it real quick at the last minute." Skylar told him.

"Fair enough." Tyson laughed. "So what should we do tonight? Order a pizza? Watch movies?"

Skylar shrugged. "That's so boring."

"Well... What do you suggest? There's not really much else to do around here." Tyson frowned.

Skylar swallowed. She'd been wanting to make this suggestion all evening, but wasn't sure what Tyson would think of it. His parents were gone for the night - something relating to his mom's job. They weren't going to be back until the morning... So for once, Tyson and Skylar had the whole house to themselves - for the entire night.

Turning over on his bed so that she was on her stomach facing her boyfriend on the floor, she smiled. "How about we have a few drinks?" She raised an eyebrow and looked down at him.

Tyson looked hesitant.

"Just a couple. I don't want to get plastered or anything." Skylar went on. "We're the only ones here. All night. Maybe after a couple drinks I might even be willing to skinny dip with you." She added. He'd been trying to get her to do that forever, always suggesting that they try to sneak and do so while his parents were home... No way... But with them gone all night, and a couple drinks, maybe it could be fun.

"Really?" Tyson grinned.

Skylar nodded and smiled back. "Really."

"Okay! Like... right now?" Tyson sounded so excited.

"Sure." Skylar laughed. "But you've gotta let me get into the pool first. I don't want you to see me naked yet... We'll build up to it..."

"Yeah. Okay..." Tyson nodded.

"Meet me out there in ten minutes." Skylar suggested, climbing off his bed and pulling her hair up into a ponytail. "With drinks." She added.

"Sounds good." Tyson smiled.

Skylar grinned to herself as she made her way downstairs. Her sister warned her not to make the same stupid mistakes she had - regarding alcohol and boys... but Skylar was smarter than Amy. She trusted Tyson. Things would be fine for her. She also wasn't going to get nearly as drunk as Amy had gotten into the habit of becoming.

She made her way out onto the patio. The pool was illuminated by dim solar lights placed around the deck. It was light enough to see, but also dark enough so that her body wouldn't be too visible to Tyson once he joined her. It was the perfect amount of lighting for what they were doing - so they could see enough of each other without seeing too much all at once and feeling totally on display and embarrassed.

Once she was by the pool, she looked up toward Tyson's bedroom window, just to make sure he wasn't trying to peek. He wasn't. His curtains were closed. Keeping her eyes on his window, Skylar pulled her shirt up over her head and stepped out of her skirt. She tossed the garments onto the deck and turned toward the pool, sticking her foot in. The water felt nice and cool compared to the heavy, sticky summer air.

She looked down at herself in her bra and panties, wondering if she should take them off too. She didn't want this to progress too quickly, and certainly didn't want Tyson to get the wrong idea. Skylar had never seen Tyson naked, and he hadn't seen her naked either. They hadn't had any kind of sex yet - just kissing and over-the-clothes stuff. She wasn't sure she was ready for sex... So she kept her undergarments on and slid into the pool. She could always take them off later if she wanted.

Skylar looked up at Tyson's window as the light behind the curtain flipped off. She imagined he was making his way downstairs and toward his parents' liquor cabinet.

She leaned back slightly, dunking her hair under water and then straightening herself back up, running her hands down over her soaked ponytail. Then she leaned back again and floated on her back as she stared up at the night sky. There were so many stars out tonight. That was one good thing about living outside any large cities. The stars were always so bright.

With a sigh, Skylar straightened herself up again, frowning as she looked toward the house. Tyson sure was taking a long time. Did he think she meant she wanted him to literally wait ten actual minutes?

Skylar twirled herself around in the water and then dove under, swimming as far as she could before coming up for air. She looked around herself. She'd made it pretty far. Maybe her sister was right when she'd suggested Skylar try out for the swim team. She hadn't done so her freshman or sophomore year, but she had two years left to give it a go.

Skylar gasped and turned toward the house when she heard what sounded like glass breaking. She swallowed nervously and stared toward the glass door leading into the kitchen. Tyson must have dropped a bottle.

"Ty... you okay?" She called out as she paddled toward the edge of the pool.

There was no answer.

"Tyson!" She yelled again. He still didn't answer. With an exasperated sigh, Skylar pulled herself up out of the pool. If she had known she was going to have to go search for her boyfriend, she'd have brought a towel out here. She figured he'd take care of that.

She shrugged into her t-shirt, which clung uncomfortably to her wet skin. She decided to just leave her skirt on the deck. Tyson had probably just broken a bottle. She could help him clean up and then they'd be back out here in no time.

She turned toward the door and headed toward it, only stopping when a much louder, much closer sound of shattering glass filled the air around her. She gasped and shrunk down as small bits of glass rained down around her followed by a heavy thud.

Looking toward the sound of the thud, Skylar inhaled and whimpered. Tyson was lying on the ground, utterly surrounded by tiny shards of glass. "Tyson!" Skylar gasped, rushing toward him.

Before she could reach him, however, somebody grabbed her arm from behind, yanking her backward so that she stumbled onto the wooden deck. She turned toward whomever it was in time to see dark clothes, a ghost-face mask, and the glint of a knife, already stained red with someone else's blood.

Skylar gasped and stumbled away. That was the exact costume worn by the killers who had terrorized this town before. She hoped this was a joke, but it certainly didn't seem like one.

As she scrambled to her feet, she hesitated, wanting desperately to check on Tyson, to see if he was okay... but she couldn't. The masked, dark-clad stranger was too close. She couldn't afford to spend her precious time doing anything but running.

So she did just that, sprinting away from the killer, past Tyson's limp, unconscious body and toward the gate leading from the pool deck to the front yard. She reached the gate, grabbing out at the latch only to feel herself grabbed and pulled harshly back.

"No!" Skylar screamed, elbowing the stranger in the chest and clamoring for the gate again. Within seconds, she felt something cold and sharp biting into her flesh through the back of her shoulder, tearing past her skin and muscles and scraping her collarbone.

Skylar whimpered in pain and fear as she stumbled against the wooden gate and attempted to bypass her attacker. She groaned and sobbed as another piercing stab radiated through her, this time further down, but still through her back.

She sunk to the ground, gasping for breaths as she crawled through broken glass and toward her boyfriend. Tyson still hadn't moved a muscle.

"Help me!" Skylar whimpered, using only one arm as she crawled. The other was in too much pain. She screamed a loud, unintelligible shriek as she felt a large hand wrap around her ankle and pull her backward. Glass dug into her palm and knees as she struggled to remain in place and fell down against the ground.

She felt a hard hand grasp around her ponytail and yank her head back sharply. She reached her own hands up toward the back of her head, trying to dislodge her attacker's hands. Skylar could barely even register each aspect of pain shooting through her being by the time the cold blade of the knife was pressed against her neck and dragged across her throat. She was allowed to fall down against the deck as she gripped her hands around her neck. Blood seeped out between her fingers as she coughed and sputtered, no longer able to force words past the blood collecting in her throat.

She stared up at the night sky, at the bright, burning stars and blinked as the killer's ghost-mask came into her view. She inhaled a labored, shaking breath and turned her head to the side, hoping to see the stars rather than more of the horrifying mask.

Skylar wasn't even sure she felt it when the knife was plunged into her stomach. She felt cold all over, and the feeling of wet, sticky blood... but not so much pain at this point. She choked out an attempt at words, but her voice wasn't working. So she blinked back her pain and inhaled one last shaking breath. Finally, she closed her eyes for good.

xxxxxx


	2. Chapter 2

xxxxxx

Chapter 2

xxxxxx

Dewey Riley yawned as he sat at his desk at the police station. His shift was over in an hour. Then he could go home and sleep... But for now, even though nothing ever happened in Woodsboro, he and two of his fellow officers were required to remain at the police station - just in case.

They had been doing a lot of sitting-in-the-office-watching-tv type work lately. There just wasn't much need for anything else. The town had been fairly calm, so only one pair of officers went driving around patrolling the town on weekdays while the others remained on-call at the station. Dewey honestly didn't know which assignment was more boring, but at least at the station they had television.

"Isn't your girlfriend's news thing on?" Cody asked from a desk across the room as he nodded toward the small television hung up in the corner of the room. Right now it was playing an old episode of The Twilight Zone. None of the three officers had really been paying much attention to it as they sat around chatting, waiting for the last hour of their shift to slowly tick by.

Dewey frowned. Yes, Gale's special news report was scheduled to air right about now... but she wasn't his girlfriend - well... maybe she was. They never really broke up. They just didn't see each other much lately... but then, when they were together, they weren't official about cementing whatever they were as an established relationship in the first place. You can't break up if you were never dating... He also knew this news report wasn't going to be a smooth one. Sidney and Cotton were involved, and he'd already heard from Sidney how the interview had gone - not well. It was pre-recorded, and Sidney didn't appreciate how it went... but of course Gale was going to air it anyway. It was sure to be awkward and either make Gale's hate-viewers dislike her more, or make Sidney look rude, which wouldn't be fair at all.

"What's the matter, Dwight?" Anthony, an officer a few years older than Dewey asked. "You don't watch her reports anymore?"

Dewey shrugged and exhaled. "I do... Sometimes."

"Well, let's watch it then." Cody went on, flipping the channel on the tv to Gale's report. It was just beginning. Unfortunately, they hadn't missed even a minute.

The camera focused on Gale, who sat with perfect posture, perfect hair, a perfect outfit, and a satisfied smirk on her face. She knew she'd just struck news-gold by getting Sidney to agree to this. Dewey could see the excitement in her eyes, though the reporter was clearly trying to appear calm.

Gale's piercing blue eyes stared into the camera in such a way that Dewey could almost swear she was staring right into his eyes as she spoke in her usual strong, professional voice. "The Woodsboro murders. A chilling, horrifying tale so many of us thought would only ever be part of someone else's tragic story. Nothing but a distant news report, far removed from our own lives. For this reporter, it became a reality not once, but twice. In reporting on these crimes, I became personally involved, and grew close to the brave young woman in the center of it all - Sidney Prescott."

She turned slightly in her chair, so that she faced both Sidney and the camera as the image zoomed out to show both Gale and Sidney. Sidney looked less than comfortable, but forced a small smile as Gale continued. "Miss Prescott, tell us about your experience being at the center of this, not once, but twice."

Sidney swallowed and nodded before inhaling a breath. "Well... I guess it started with my mother's murder..." She paused again. Dewey could see she felt uncomfortable. She was looking only at Gale or her own lap and not at the camera. He was still surprised Gale had somehow convinced the younger woman to participate in this. Sidney went on in a low voice as she looked at Gale. "I didn't know her death was at all related to the other murders at first. But it was..."

Gale nodded and almost looked genuinely sympathetic. "Did you ever suspect your then-boyfriend, Billy Loomis was involved?"

Sidney shook her head, but then nodded. "I did, actually. He was there the first time the killer attacked me. He had a cell phone, which most high school kids didn't have... I knew the killer was calling people before attacking them. Why would he have a cell phone if he weren't the killer? Why was he there at my house, right after the killer was? I really did think it was him. But then another murder happened, and Billy wasn't responsible - so they let him go, and I let my suspicion go. So yeah... I did suspect him. And then I didn't. No one believed there could be two killers. Not the cops. Not me..."

"You lost a lot of friends that night." Gale noted. "Which was the hardest death to deal with?"

Sidney almost scowled. Dewey knew this interview was going to turn hostile very quickly. He could see already that Sidney was getting annoyed. Gale's questions were becoming a bit too much already, and Dewey knew they would only get worse from here. He wondered how much of it Gale would keep - which parts would be cut... Sidney had called him pretty soon after filming and told him all about it... so he knew where this was going - and it wasn't going to be pretty.

"She's so attractive." Anthony noted in a low voice as he stared at the screen.

Dewey frowned. "Who, Sid?" He wondered. "A little young for you, Anthony. She's barely out of high school."

"No... Well, Sidney's cute too, but I meant Gale. You're really screwing up with her Dwight. You can't get so hung up on little stuff like her reporting annoying you. She's stunning... and for a guy like you? You're so lucky she gives you the time of day... No offense." He shrugged and offered a sympathetic smile.

Dewey exhaled. Anthony was like a mentor to him - he was probably the best cop Woodsboro had. Dewey knew the older man didn't mean anything by his remarks. They weren't the nicest things to say, but he was right, in a way... of course, Dewey wasn't with Gale just because she was beautiful. That certainly didn't hurt. To Dewey, Gale was the most gorgeous woman he'd ever met... but her actions still mattered too. He didn't like it when she did things he perceived as cruel or selfish. He knew she had a good heart, and that's why he still wanted to be with her. Her heart was at times difficult to find under her tough exterior, but it was there.

On-screen, Gale was still staring expectantly at Sidney, refusing to break the increasingly uncomfortable silence, thus ensuring Sidney would answer her question.

The younger woman blinked and breathed in and out. "I mean... The whole thing was hard... I thought Billy loved me... but I'm glad he's gone. His death was a relief by the time it happened... I guess the first time, with the first killers, Tatum was my biggest loss. She was my best friend... but losing my mom was the hardest overall. In a way, she was my best friend too."

Dewey looked down. Tatum was his biggest loss too. He missed his little sister every day.

Gale shook her head on screen. "I can't imagine. And only a year after all that, you lost your father. This trend - the ghost-masked killers, and their copycat killer... They've taken away your whole family, most of your friends... You've lost almost everything you hold dear. How did that feel?"

Sidney exhaled. Dewey could tell she was about to say something less than kind. Sidney was a sweet, caring girl, but when people got on her nerves, she could get harsh, and Dewey knew better than anyone that Gale had a very easy time getting on Sidney's nerves.

"You were kind of at the center of the second murder-spree too, Gale." Sidney noted, glaring across the space at Gale. "How did you feel?"

Gale laughed nervously. She shook her head and actually seemed like she couldn't find words for once. She must not have expected Sidney to turn the questions around on her.

"That must've been hard for you, Gale. To have put trust in the wrong person like that. How do you feel now, knowing you spent so much time alone with the person killing everyone around you?" Sidney persisted. Dewey almost felt bad for Gale in that moment, but the reporter was airing this interview on her own free will. She didn't have to... She cared more about ratings than even her own feelings, apparently.

Gale stared back at Sidney and looked like she was almost ready to snap, but she pushed her anger down and breathed in a calming breath. She brushed her hair behind her ear and swallowed before sitting up even straighter and using her professional, stoicm emotionless voice. "It was hard, Sidney. I was entirely betrayed, and unknowingly put myself and others in danger over and over again by associating with him. It's hard when someone you're so close to, someone you trust turns on you and does something like this. It must have been infinitely harder for you. I barely trusted Xavier. You did trust Billy, seemingly quite a bit. Enough to give him a second chance after being sure he was guilty. A chance he didn't end up deserving."

Sidney stared back at her, but said nothing more for the time being.

Gale forced another smile. "Which brings us to the other person you once suspected of part of this whole ordeal. Cotton Weary."

Dewey could swear he saw the color drain from Sidney's face. He could see the dread in her eyes. She knew full well where this was going.

"I had good reason to suspect him." Sidney interjected before even being asked. "But I admit I was wrong. I wish nothing but the best for Cotton, wherever he may be. He's an innocent man, and if I could take back my part in his presumed guilt, I would, in a heart beat. I was wrong."

Gale nodded. "Cotton is here today, and is willing to discuss this with Sidney for the first time in front of our cameras." Gale spoke. She wasn't even looking at Sidney anymore. She was talking to her audience.

Sidney glared at her and shook her head. "I'm not doing this." She stood from her chair and pulled off the microphone that had been clipped onto her shirt.

"Sidney, wait!" Gale moved to stand.

Sidney turned back, balling her hand into a fist and staring with what certainly looked like pure hatred down at the reporter. Dewey noticed Gale shrink back slightly, probably expecting a punch she totally deserved.

"You didn't tell me he was going to be here." Sidney growled under her breath. She kept her hand down, balled into a fist at her side. She looked like she wanted to hit Gale again. The woman deserved it. But Sidney held back.

"He's harmless, Sidney... You owe him your time, since you took so much of his away with your false accusation." Gale sat up straighter in her chair, seemingly no longer afraid of the possibility of Sidney striking her. "Just sit down, Sidney. No one here is against you. We're all on your side. I just think-"

"No. No, Gale. I don't owe him anything! He had an affair with a woman he knew was married. He looked extremely suspicious when she was killed... Why wouldn't I suspect him? Everyone else did too. I'm not talking to him. This interview is done." Sidney threw the microphone down on the chair and turned to leave.

"This might be your only chance to publicly apologize, Sidney." Gale spoke. "Come on out, Cotton."

The camera panned from Sidney to Cotton. Sidney looked very tense, but paused in her tracks as Cotton cautiously made his way out from behind a curtain sectioning off dressing rooms from the stage. He looked nervous, like maybe he didn't expect the interview to go this way either.

"Hi, Sidney." He waved nervously as he made his way toward the chairs set up. "I'm glad we're finally getting a chance to talk."

"I've spoken to Cotton privately, Gale. I don't need to do this here." Sidney hissed.

"I can't believe they're showing all this." Cody whispered as he stared wide-eyed up at the screen. "Sidney's going to kick her ass."

Dewey stared back up at the screen as well, feeling guilt and nerves on behalf of Gale and anger and betrayal on behalf of Sidney. It was so hard for him to feel so strongly about both parties in this situation. He wished Gale could just be nicer.

"He seems to think you're still upset with him, Sidney. Let's make this right. Once and for all." Gale suggested with a smile, which though it appeared almost cocky, also had a hint of nervousness to it. She knew she was pushing her luck.

Sidney swallowed hard and shook her head as she turned away from Gale.

"If he can forgive you for basically ruining his life, I'd think you could forgive him... He didn't even do anything to you." Gale noted from behind her.

And that was seemingly the last straw. With a small growl making its way up and out of Sidney's mouth, she turned toward the reporter and swung out a punch, hitting Gale across her face.

Gale gasped and fell back, nearly knocking over her chair before scrambling out of it and hiding behind it to avoid further assault. She held her hand over her cheek and stared at Sidney with what looked like shock in her eyes. Dewey wasn't sure why she was always so surprised when Sidney lashed out like this after Gale said something insensitive. It was becoming a pattern. She should have expected it at this point.

"Sidney, calm down." Cotton advised as he put himself between her and Gale. "We don't have to do the interview. It was my understanding that you agreed to this. I'm sorry."

"We did agree to this!" Gale lied from behind him.

Sidney almost went for the woman again, but Gale's new camera man was quick to come up behind her and put a calming hand on her arm. "You should just go." He noted in a soft, almost sympathetic voice. He wasn't wearing a microphone, as he wasn't meant to be a part of this interview, so he could barely be heard. "It's not worth having the police called on you. Just let it go."

Sidney nodded and did just that, storming out of the room and not looking back.

Dewey grimaced as he continued looking up at the television as Gale regained her composure, smoothing out her skirt as she re-positioned herself back in her chair. She tucked her hair behind her ears and held her head up high as she continued to interview Cotton, who looked a bit uneasy, but continued with the interview anyway.

Dewey exhaled as he looked across the room at Anthony. "I can't believe she didn't cut any of that... Sidney told me what happened... I figured half of it would be cut... But I guess Gale knows what's good for ratings."

"Damn." Anthony laughed. "She's feisty, isn't she?"

"I guess that's one way to put it." Dewey laughed.

"Cotton still seems suspicious to me." Cody noted as he continued watching the screen. "I mean, I know he was exonerated, but he just seems weird. I don't trust him. How can we be totally sure Maureen was with him consensually? We're gonna trust the word of sociopath-murderer high school kids when there's physical evidence to the contrary?"

"He didn't do it, Cody." Dewey insisted.

"Maureen's murder wasn't in the same time frame as the others... it just doesn't feel like it was the same killer." Cody went on.

Dewey shook his head. "It wasn't Cotton, Cody. Trust me. I've interviewed him more times than I can count. He's weird, but he's not a killer."

"He sure doesn't mind the awkward, insensitive news reports." Cody noted.

"Well, neither does Gale. Some people are just a little insensitive. Doesn't mean they're killers. Both Cotton and Gale were almost killed last time," Dewey reminded him.

"I'm not saying Cotton was involved last time." Cody raised his hands in defense. "But with Sidney's mom... Maybe... And I don't think Gale was involved in either one."

"She sure is quick to profit from other people's suffering though." Anthony noted.

Dewey frowned and looked down at his desk. On the one hand, he didn't love his friends talking about Gale in a negative light... On the other hand, they weren't wrong. Gale did profit from these murders, and usually not in a way that was tactful in the slightest.

"I mean... She is hot though. And smart." Anthony shrugged. "I can see why you're into her. I might be able to forgive the heartless part too." He added with a laugh.

Dewey looked toward Anthony as the phone on the older man's desk rang. He listened as Anthony answered the call. Judging by the side of the conversation he heard, it sounded like something serious was going on. Dewey frowned. Their shift was almost over... But they were going to have to respond to whatever this was anyway.

Anthony exhaled tiredly and hung up the phone, closing his eyes for a moment before turning toward his co-workers. "There's something going on at the Parker residence. The boy, Tyson's parents are away. Neighbors heard screaming and breaking glass... Tyson and maybe his girlfriend were found dead and the neighbor says it looks like either a double murder or a murder-suicide."

Dewey felt his breath hitch in his throat. "They're just high school kids." He frowned. Woodsboro was such a small town. Dewey knew pretty much everyone who lived here. Tyson and his girlfriend Skylar were just a couple years younger than Tatum would be now - but around the same age as she was when she was killed.

"Let's hope this is an isolated case and not..." Cody trailed off.

Dewey nodded as he stood from his desk. "Watch the office, Cody. Anthony and I'll take this one."

"Okay..." Cody offered a tight, sympathetic smile. "Let me know what you find out."

Dewey nodded again and exhaled. "Come on, Anthony."

He certainly hoped the same thing Cody did - the same thing everyone in Woodsboro did - that this was a single tragedy - that these two kids had killed themselves/each other in some tragic fight. The last thing this town needed was a second copycat killer. People hadn't even fully recovered from the first string of murders, let alone the second.

Dewey was so not ready for this to start back up again...

... ... ... ... ... ... ...

As soon as Dewey and Anthony arrived at the scene, it became quickly apparent that this was no accident. Whether it was a double murder, a murder suicide, or the start of something much bigger remained unclear, but what was clear was that this was definitely a crime, and one the press was going to be all over.

While the CSI team did their job, Dewey put himself in charge of standing near the gate which led back to the pool. While there was crime scene tape around the whole house at this point, and other officers patrolling, Dewey wanted to be personally sure no one got in through the most obvious entrance to the bloody crime scene. The last thing the families of the victims needed was for there to be graphic photos of the deceased finding their way onto the internet.

Of course it didn't take long for reporters to arrive. At the moment, only the local ones had had time to get here, but he knew more would follow, especially if this wasn't a lone incident. If this became a serial thing, like before, there would be more reporters here than actual citizens. While he dreaded that possibility, he mentally prepared himself for it.

Woodsboro was a very slow place as far as news stories were concerned. The press was very quick to catch the scent of a good story, because they were starving for it between stories of fundraisers, local small businesses opening or closing, and stories of baby horses being born on local farms. Dewey was fairly sure some of these reporters would literally kill to get a story that wouldn't bore viewers half to death.

"Officer! Officer!" A reporter yelled from the other side of the police tape stretched out about four feet away from Dewey. The cop turned his head and pretended not to hear the voice. He didn't have any information to give to the press. Even if he wanted to, the investigation was just starting and there were no real answers yet.

"Officer Riley!" A second voice screamed over the first. "What can you tell us about what's happened here?"

"Is it true the victims are minors?" The first voice asked again. "Is this related to the school? Does Woodsboro High have a bullying problem?"

"Was it suicide?" The second voice rose even higher. She was literally screaming so that her questions would be the loudest.

Dewey shook his head softly and continued looking away.

"Hey!" Dewey frowned and took a step over when he noticed a third reporter looking suspiciously like he was about to climb under the police tape. "Take a step back, sir." Dewey ordered.

"Officer Riley. Hi. Scott Van Buren. Channel 6." The man started with a satisfied smirk.

Dewey couldn't help but to stare at the man. He couldn't believe this guy had just tried to trespass onto a crime scene just to get Dewey's attention. Behind Scott was a rather tall, muscular man holding a camera. The guy looked like he'd be better suited as a bouncer at a bar. The two of them were actually a rather intimidating presence.

"Witnesses report screams and the sound of broken glass." Scott went on. "Can you give us any information as to what has happened here tonight?"

Dewey shook his head. "No. I can't." He frowned. He'd just broken a promise to himself not to talk to the press at all. He felt disappointment that this guy had flustered him enough to get a response.

"We've spoken to neighbors who believe a young high school couple was killed here tonight. A young boy and girl. Can you confirm this?" Scott asked in a confident voice.

Dewey exhaled and shook his head. He turned away again.

Scott shrugged and turned back toward his camera man. "Two young lives were lost tonight in what appears to be a murder-suicide. Neighbors and classmates of the tragic lovers claim all they ever saw was love and care. A beautiful young girl madly in love with a boy who would rather see her dead than happy."

Dewey frowned as he stared back toward the reporter, who was completely focused on his burly camera man at the moment. A part of him wanted to interrupt, to tell the guy he was wrong. To ask him to shut up until things were confirmed or denied... but another part of him figured it didn't matter. The guy was probably wrong. He would lose credibility for this, and at least he didn't know any names, wasn't ruining anyone's reputation. It was harmless to everyone but Scott himself.

"As we investigate this in the days that come, perhaps we'll discover Tyson's motive. Did Skylar cheat on him?" Scott speculated.

"Hey!" Dewey called out again, catching the reporter's attention. How did this guy have the victims' names already? Why on earth would he think jumping to these conclusions and ruining the reputation of two dead teens was appropriate?

Scott turned toward him with raised eyebrows. "Yes, Officer?"

"Would you stop that?" Dewey hissed.

"Stop what?" Scott shrugged.

Dewey hesitated, glancing toward the camera that was now focused on him. "This is an ongoing investigation..." Dewey stammered. "We don't have answers yet. No confirmation that it is or isn't a murder suicide... Before you drag these kids' names through the mud, maybe you need to get your facts straight." He stared at the camera, knowing this would likely be edited to include only the parts that didn't make Scott look like an asshole.

"Will there be a press conference?" Scott wondered.

Dewey shook his head and shrugged. "That's not up to me. Be patient for once. Answers will come, but this is really fresh. Give the families a chance to be notified, and to grieve."

"Thank you for your time, Officer Riley." Scott nodded as though satisfied with the interview and walked off to harass someone else.

Dewey exhaled and closed his eyes. Every time he was somehow convinced or tricked into speaking with the press, he felt sick afterwards. Maybe he had said too much. Maybe he hadn't used the right tone. He really shouldn't have said anything at all, but the guy had kind of forced him to. It was that, or stand back and watch him trash the names of two kids who were honestly probably both murder victims.

"Dwight." A voice called to him from the other side of the gate. Dewey looked over to where his partner Anthony was waving him over.

With a frown, Dewey stepped toward the gate and leaned in close.

Anthony shook his head. "I don't think any part of this was a suicide." He whispered. "We need to start working on a suspect list."

Dewey leaned in closer. "What's the probable cause of death?"

"The boy was stabbed and thrown out the window. The girl was stabbed a lot more and had her throat cut."

Dewey winced and looked over his shoulder at the reporters who were also leaning in closer trying to hear. He looked back toward Anthony and exhaled tiredly. "Alright. We'll figure this out."

Anthony offered a tight smile and nodded.

Dewey turned back toward the crowd of reporters and citizens who had flocked toward the scene. He tried to keep his facial expression neutral, but inside, he was terrified that this was going to be like last time, like the time before. If that were the case, Skylar and Tyson were the first of many.

He narrowed his eyes as he scanned the crowd, ignoring the voices of reporters calling for his attention. Some of the people were whispering quietly to each other. Some were craning their necks, trying to see over the fence that was simply too high for that to be possible. The reporters were still asking questions that fell on deaf ears. A group of teens stood further back, staring up toward the house with uncertainty and fear in their wide eyes.

The killer could be among these people. Future victims could too. No one looked outright guilty, but at the same time, each and every one of them was a suspect at the moment. Until Dewey and the other officers ruled people out, they were going to have to treat everyone as suspicious.

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	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

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The morning had been a rather long one. It took a few hours for Gale to finally arrive in Woodsboro. She went to the house of the murdered teens first. Unfortunately, several other reporters had gotten there first, but she did her report anyway, knowing that she would unfortunately probably have other opportunities to get there first. If this was a copycat of the other murders this town had seen, she'd have lots of chances to be the first on the scene - to get the best story.

Now they were on their way to the police station. She wasn't sure if Dewey would talk to her. They had kind of grown apart over the months - it seemed they just weren't compatible. He always wanted to stay in boring Woodsboro. She always wanted to leave. Neither would budge... but Woodsboro was becoming less boring every day. Maybe if they both survived this time, Gale really could stay with him... If he wanted her to... and if she still wanted to be with him after this. She loved him, but he was excruciating sometimes. Morals were all well and good, but he needed to calm down and live a little. No one ever got anywhere in life by being selfless and following all the rules.

Looking out her window as the news van pulled up into a parking lot, Gale observed the familiar sight of the police station. She'd been here many times... Most of those times weren't exactly good memories. The sheriff - fortunately now retired - had had her arrested the last time a murder spree took place in Woodsboro. Gale had been attacked here. She'd witnessed a murder here. The memory made her feel nervous, but then she thought of her other reason to be nervous - Dewey would be there. She wasn't entirely sure where she stood with him. She wasn't upset with him if he wasn't upset with her... but he tended to get upset easily. She couldn't be certain he wasn't mad at her for some reason right at this very moment.

Gale opened the passenger-side door and stepped out of the van once it was parked. Her new camera man, Stanley followed her lead. He was actually pretty good at his job so far, which was a welcome relief. She just hoped he didn't end up trying to kill her like her last camera man. So far, none of her camera men had turned out well, whether because they were incompetent or vicious murderers. She was beginning to wonder if she should hire the tiniest woman camera person she could find... but then, the cameras were pretty heavy. She could barely lug the equipment around herself. She needed someone big enough to be able to carry it. Unfortunately, she was sort of forced to hire someone bigger and stronger than she was to spend so much time alone with her when she was still struggling to find a way to trust anyone new in her life. She'd just have to hope for the best. She had to do her job, and that meant she was going to have to trust this guy.

"Are we interviewing the police?" He whispered to her as he walked up close.

Gale leaned slightly away from him, still feeling a natural reluctance to let him get too close. She was determined not to let this new guy become her friend, or to pretend to - if he followed the lead of either of her previous camera men, things weren't going to end well - he'd either be murdered like Kenny, or be a murderer like Xavier. She didn't want either option to become a reality, and if either of those possibilities did end up happening, she at least didn't want to have to grieve him - or come too close to being killed by him. So she was trying a new approach with this guy - she was being nicer, but not letting him get to know her - and she was trying her best not to get to know him either.

"You think they'll talk to us? I did some camera work for another news station last year, and the police would never talk to us." Stanley went on.

"I know the police here." Gale told him. "But they still might not talk to me... not on-camera at least. We'll see."

Stanley nodded and followed her up the stairs.

As Gale reached toward the door, someone else opened it from the inside. She stepped back and smiled as Dewey stepped out. He didn't seem to be paying attention - maybe he was lost in thought. He almost walked right past her, until she put her hand out on his arm.

"Dewey." Gale spoke. She couldn't help but to grin. She hadn't realized how much she had missed him over the past few weeks. They hadn't even talked this month... not even once. She frowned as she realized that. She felt bad. She didn't want to lose touch with him. She never wanted them to become strangers again.

"Gale?" He took a step back and frowned down at her. "Wha- Oh... I guess I shouldn't ask."

"Shouldn't ask what?" Gale wondered.

Dewey sighed. "I was gonna ask why you were in town... but I think I know already." He looked so disappointed.

Gale pouted. "It's my job, Dewey. I'm doing my job. The public has a right to know there might be a serial killer out there."

"Gale! You're going to make people panic." Dewey hissed, glancing over her shoulder at Stanley, who quietly observed from a few steps down. Dewey gripped her arm and led her off to the side. "What do you want, Gale? I'm not talking to the press. I'm not going on record. I'll talk to you - but not if you're in reporter-mode."

"Okay." Gale agreed. She wondered if he would tell her anything useful. He had a habit of not necessarily thinking before he spoke when he was talking to her. It wasn't good for his sake, but it was great for hers. She let him lead her even further away from her camera man. Fortunately, Stanley knew to keep away.

"This is off the record... and we don't even know much yet, so there's not even anything for you to report." Dewey began. He paused, licking his lips and staring down at her. "I saw your interview with Sid... That was cold, Gale."

Gale rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I was cold? She punched me... Again."

"She doesn't want to talk to Cotton. You should respect that." Dewey shook his head. "You don't understand... She knows now that he's innocent, but for so long she didn't... That's a deep wound that's not going to heal overnight. You can't expect her to ever want to talk to him. She literally may never want to - and that's okay. She doesn't have to, and you can't keep trying to force it."

"Alright." Gale shrugged. That didn't matter now. There was a bigger story - an ongoing one that was happening right now - fresh in people's minds. She could work on Sidney and Cotton later. "So what about the murders last night. Tyson and Skylar. What do you know? Was it a murder-suicide? Some of the neighbors think it was... I don't buy it. I'm sure you've got more info..."

Dewey shook his head. "I can't tell you, Gale. It's an ongoing investigation."

Gale exhaled. "Off the record, Dewey... You said you'd talk to me."

"I can't talk to anyone, Gale. Reporter or not." Dewey frowned.

Gale scowled at him. "I'll just have to make my own assumptions then. Do my own investigation... I know it wasn't suicide. It was a double murder. The boy was thrown out the window. He didn't jump. Suicide victims don't jump through glass - and typically don't die after only falling from two stories. He must have been killed before being thrown out the window. And Skylar, of course... She was definitely murdered. Her neighbor saw the blood - her throat was slit. That's not suicide. Thanks for nothing, Dewey. See ya."

She turned to leave, but Dewey's hand shot out and grabbed her arm before she could go. She turned back toward him with raised eyebrows, silently waiting on his response.

"Gale, please just don't get involved. You were almost killed last time." Dewey hissed, keeping his voice low, but he also sounded rather upset. He was genuinely worried, not just about his information staying under wraps, but about her.

Gale felt a smile tugging at her lips, but unfortunately, she could not honor his request. How could she not get involved? This was going to be a huge news story. The first two groups of murders were already well-known nation-wide. This time could push the town's fame into being world-known. How could she sit this out?

"Dwight." A woman's voice boomed as someone Gale did not recognize made her way out of the police station. The woman looked disappointed when her eyes met Gale's. "We're not talking to the media." She told Gale.

"Sheriff Lake... I know her... She's an old friend. I'm not discussing the case. We're just talking." Dewey stuttered through what was obviously a rather nervous and flustered reply. "Gale, I have to go..." He rushed off toward the parking lot, dodging a couple other reporters on his way and leaving Gale frowning up at the new sheriff.

Gale took a step toward Sheriff Lake. The first thing she did when approaching a new news story that seemed like it was going to be a time-consuming one involving some kind of criminal activity was to try to get in good with the police, and more particularly, with the ones most in charge. This lady already looked angry, but that didn't mean Gale shouldn't try to talk to her anyway.

"Gale Weathers." Gale introduced herself, holding her hand out.

"I know who you are." The sheriff frowned. "You need to leave. Take him with you." She nodded toward Stanley, who still stood awkwardly about ten feet away. He was holding his camera, but the lens cap was still on and he clearly wasn't filming.

"We have every right to be here, Sheriff." Gale frowned. "He's not even recording anything." She gestured toward Stanley, who looked rather nervous. "Not that it even matters. We could record here if we wanted. This sidewalk is a public space."

"Gale, you're a reporter, not a cop. Wait until the information presents itself." Lake went on. "This case is still fresh. We're still investigating. Any information you could possibly find thus far wouldn't be verified anyway. We don't even have an established cause of death on either of the minors involved. Just be patient. The public will be informed once we have all the information."

"I'm not the public." Gale told her. "But the public loves me. If you want to keep them informed, I'm a great outlet for that. I'd assume you want your citizens informed, so they can avoid becoming the next victims. If there's a serial murderer in town, they should know. They'll listen to me. I get great ratings. Especially in Woodsboro."

Lake shook her head. "You have no reason to believe this is a serial murderer, or a murder at all... With due respect, we're holding a press conference tomorrow at noon. You can ask your questions there. Until then, you need to back off. Leave this to the professionals. You could always go write a tabloid article while you wait."

"Sounds like I already have this figured out better than you do." Gale couldn't help herself. This woman was being hostile, and Gale couldn't help but to be hostile right back. "I'll get my story from someone else." Gale smiled a tight, sarcastic grin as she turned to leave.

"You need to leave this to the police. Report all you want, but you'll need to get your information elsewhere. I know you've got some sort of spell over Dwight, but it's not going to work this time. He's not talking to you." Lake's voice was stern. "I run a tight ship. I'm not letting this kind of thing slide. If I suspect a leak from my office, people are getting fired. I won't stand for it."

"He's an adult. He can talk to whomever he wishes to talk to." Gale crossed her arms over her chest as she turned back toward the woman. She could barely believe the sheriff was threatening her with the possibility of Dewey losing his job over this. "You can't keep him from talking to me."

"Not about this." Lake kept her head held high and stared down at Gale. The way the woman stood on the step while Gale was on the ground made the sheriff look like a regal queen staring down a peasant.

Gale scoffed and turned away. Dewey would talk to her. He always did. Even if he didn't mean to.

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	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

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Gale walked through Woodsboro High with the confidence of one of the mean-girl cheerleaders she used to despise. Throughout her life, she found the best way to get what she wanted was to remain confident at all times. Even with two of the students at this school having been murdered last night, the security here was quite lacking. If she acted like she was supposed to be here, probably no one would bother asking questions.

School was out for the summer, but most of the students were here anyway. Counselors were on-sight and the kids were holding some sort of mid-day vigil for their murdered peers. Naturally, Gale knew this would be her best source of information for the time being.

"That's Gale Weathers." She heard a student whisper.

"Hope you didn't find that camera man in the same camera guy depot as the last one!" A guy in some kind of sport jersey yelled out at her and Stanley as they passed.

"Fantastic," Gale smirked and walked toward him. "You seem like the kind of loud-mouth jock who might be able to point me in the right direction. I'm looking for someone who knew Tyson Parker or Skylar Anderson."

"What's in it for me?" The boy asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Gale narrowed her eyes. He looked like he enjoyed attention. "How about an interview?"

"On the news?" His eyes brightened.

"Yeah," Gale found the urge to roll her eyes. "Right here, right now. Then you give me a name, and if it pans out, the interview will air. If not, it won't."

"Okay." He nodded.

"What's your name, so I'll have it to introduce you?" Gale asked.

"Simon Arthur." He smiled. "Grade 11."

"Okay..." Gale once again had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't ask him what grade he was in. She didn't care. "Stanley." Gale nodded toward her camera man as he prepared his camera and held it up.

Gale nodded toward him. "This is Gale Weathers, reporting from a prayer vigil for Tyson Parker and Skylar Anderson, who were tragically murdered just last night. I'm here with-"

"They were murdered?" The boy's mouth dropped open. "Both of them? I thought Ty killed Skylar and then himself. That's what Mrs. Miller said. She found them."

"Interesting. Have you talked to Mrs. Miller about this?" Gale asked. This impromptu interview was becoming more useful than she'd originally intended.

"W-well no... My mom did. They're friends. We used to live next door. Well, my mom still does. I live at my dad's house more often now... My mom talked to her she said Skylar was really cut up - like really violently killed... but Tyson had jumped out the window or something," Simon went on. "I heard Ty was bitching to ... I mean... complaining..." He looked nervously toward Stantley. "Can you cut that part out?"

Gale nodded. "Go on."

"Well... I heard Tyson was complaining... to his friends last week that Skylar wouldn't have sex with him. I figured maybe he snapped. There's a thing where if you go into eleventh grade and you're still a virgin, the other guys don't think much of you. And the girls don't either. You're kind of doomed," Simon explained.

Gale's eyebrows rose.

"Don't worry, babe. I've had loads of it," He winked down at Gale, then grimaced and looked toward the camera again. "I, uh... can you cut that too?"

Gale actually did roll her eyes this time. "You haven't given many interviews before, have you? I'll give you a few tips - one - don't swear, two - don't sexually harass your interviewer. Want to try this again?"

Simon swallowed and nodded.

"We'll keep it short. Did you know either victim? Is there something you can think of to say? Something simple, thoughtful... You can look like a decent person for a change? The girls might respond better to that, than this," She gestured toward him with her hand and looked him up and down. She highly doubted high school girls were lining up to date someone like this, but kids were weird, and high school popularity was a bitch.

Simon nodded again, but actually looked nervous now.

Gale exhaled and repeated her earlier introduction. "This is Gale Weathers, reporting from Woodsboro High were a prayer vigil for Tyson Parker and Skylar Anderson is beig held. There is a fair sized crowd of support for the two teens who were tragically murdered just last night. I'm here with Simon Arthur, a classmate of the victims. Simon, did you know Tyson or Skylar well?"

Simon cleared his throat. "I knew Ty... kind of. He's a grade below me... He was a nice guy. Played soccar. Was really good."

Gale nodded. "I'm sure the news of his and his girlfriend's murders came as quite a shock. How did you hear about what happened?"

"Yeah... It was shocking. I, you know... well, I guess when you're in high school, you think you're gonna live forever. You think your classmates will too..." Simon responded with a sort of half-answer.

"Did you know Skylar at all?" Gale asked him.

Simon shook his head. "Not really. Just Ty."

"And did either of the two have any trouble with their peers? Any bullying, disagreements, relationship drama? Anything that stands out as a possible warning sign that something like this might have been coming?" Gale asked, hoping the question wasn't too big for him to handle.

The boy shook his head again. He was really bad at being an interview subject. "I don't think so. I mean, nothing big. Everyone kinda bullies each other in high school, right? Like, a little bit."

Gale nodded, and prepared to wrap this up. "Is there anything you'd like to share about Tyson, a memory the two of you share, something you want my viewers to know about him?"

Simon swallowed ad actually looked a bit upset. "Just that he was a great guy... He'll be missed. And I hope they find out who did this to him. He didn't deserve it."

"I'm sure he was a wonderful person, and that he and Skylar will both be deeply missed. Thank you, Simon." Gale looked back toward the camera and rattled off a short conclusion before turning back toward the kid as Stanley turned his camera off and stood back, waiting. "Someone who knew them better and who's here?"

"Danny Adams. He was in the auditorium last I saw him. He's Amy's boyfriend. Amy's Skylar's sister. I think that's as close as you're gonna get to someone who really knew either of them well. Most of their closest friends aren't here," Simon frowned.

"Thanks," Gale turned toward the auditorium. Fortunately, she knew this school well from interviewing some of Sidney's peers a year and a half ago. She shook her head and glanced back at Stanley who obediently followed her. "That was excruciating."

Stanley laughed. "Hopefully it'll be worth it."

Gale entered the auditorium, which was full of kids talking quietly in small groups. A slideshow of photographs of Skylar and Tyson played on a large screen at the front of the room. A few kids near the front were crying.

"I'm looking for Danny Adams," Gale whispered to the first person she saw who didn't look completely devastated.

"You're that reporter!" The kid exclaimed. "Is this another murder spree? Like Billy and Stu? And your camera guy? Is Danny a suspect!?"

Gale scoffed. "No. I just want to talk to him. Can you help me or not? Is he here?"

"Up there." The boy nodded toward the front of the room. "Black kid in the red shirt.

"Thanks." Gale turned away and made her way down the aisle. As she approached the young man at the front of the room, she noticed he looked somewhat apprehensive. She wondered if he recognized her - if he would even talk to her. "Hi," She spoke in a calm, gentle voice. "My name's Gale Weathers. I'm a reporter-"

"I know. What do you want?" Danny frowned. He looked more sad than angry.

"I'd like to talk. I'm trying to get to the bottom of this. As you may know, the cops around here aren't always the most competent... I'm trying get justice that they might not be capable of on their own. Do you have a minute?"

"Sure." Danny exhaled and made his way away from the group of kids. "No cameras though. You can make the information public. I don't care. I just don't want to be filmed."

"Okay." Gale fought the urge to smile. That was actually preferable. Then she wouldn't have to watch what she said for the camera. All she wanted was a lead, not a whole news report. "So I've been told you are the boyfriend of Skylar's sister?"

Danny nodded. "Yeah. Amy. Things got really messed up at the end of the year - about three weeks ago. Right before finals. It almost cost Amy a couple classes. She couldn't focus on her exams."

"What happened?" Gale leaned in closer. This conversation could very well lead her right to the culprit. Something had obviously happened to the murdered girl's sister... very recently. High school drama could sometimes turn deadly. She knew that better than anyone.

"Well, the school's pretty split on weather or not they believe it, but one of the cops - the sheriff's fucking favorite, apparently, Anthony Skinner... His brother Henry raped Amy at a party. A lot of people were drinking - Amy was one of them. She says he raped her. He says he didn't - suggests she must have been drunk and thought it was him. She said she's sure it was him, and that she wasn't that drunk."

"What grade is Henry in?" Gale asked.

"He graduated already. He's like 22 or 23 years old. That's what makes it even more sick. Why would he even go to a high school party? What a fucking creep." Gale heard a sharp edge of anger in Danny's voice. The boy shook his head and scowled. "I fucking hate him... and if he killed Sky..."

"Has Amy gone to the police? Has she been vocal about this? Said or done anything that might make Henry want to retaliate?" Gale asked.

Danny forced a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah... She's been vocal. Very vocal... But when your brother's a cop, I guess you can do whatever you want. I guess now we'll see if he can get away with murder too."

"I'd like to talk to him if I can. Any idea how I can get ahold of him?" Gale asked.

"Don't go alone because he's a rapist." Danny frowned. "He works at a warehouse... Rick's Farm Supply. Or you could call his girlfriend, Emily. She's related to that kid Randy - I think you know him."

"Randy Meeks?" Gale felt her eyebrows raise.

Danny nodded. "Yeah. They're cousins. I don't think Emily believes Henry really did it. I don't think she'd stay with him if she did... but who knows."

Gale glanced up toward the door when she noticed it open. Dewey made his way inside, along with another cop Gale didn't recognize. She looked back toward Danny. She needed to finish this interview before Dewey infringed upon it. There was one last person mentioned that she was interested in speaking to.

"What about Amy? How might I get in contact with her?" Gale wondered.

Danny shook his head. "I doubt she's gonna want to talk to you... I mean, she's actually kind of a fan of yours. Even so, it's just not a good time. I mean, you're a reporter... You're not exactly known to be sensitive. Her sister just died. She's devastated."

"I understand that, but the best way to make this right is for people to talk - to spread awareness of every aspect of this case - so we can find out who's responsible and hold them accountable. I don't want to just show up on the family's front step, but I will if I have to." Gale persisted.

Danny sighed. "I guess you're kind of right... And Amy does like to be vocal about things that matter to her. Maybe she'd appreciate the publicity. I'll tell you what... there's a private, family and close friends only memorial event for Skylar and Tyson tonight, at Tyson's family's farm. Probably only twenty or thirty people will be there. I mean, really private... like brothers, sisters, moms, dads, best friends... It's really not public at all, and they might kill me for telling you... but since Amy watches your show, maybe as long as you don't invite the whole world or bring cameras, just maybe, they might let you in to talk. It's at seven tonight, but the kids are planning a bonfire thing after all the adults go home or go to sleep. Probably around eleven. If you come by around then, you can go straight out to the back yard by the barn and skip trying to get Ty's mom to let you in."

"Great." Gale smiled. "Thank you. That's all I need for now... And I'm sorry for your loss. You've been very helpful. Hopefully I can make some progress here."

She grabbed Stanley's arm and tugged him along as they made their way back up the aisle and toward the door.

"Gale?" Dewey frowned when he saw her. The other cop smirked, as though he thought it was funny that she'd beat them here. He clearly wasn't taking this as personally as Dewey was.

"Good afternoon, Dewey." Gale held her head high and stared at him, silently daring him to ask anything of her after he'd flat out refused to share his information with her earlier today.

"Hi, Gale." Dewey frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"Interviews." Gale answered.

Dewey's brow furrowed. "Me too..." He looked like he wanted to ask more, but paused for a moment. "Are you filming your interviews? This really shouldn't be made public... Gale, these kids are grieving. You shouldn't broadcast this to the world - they lost their friends, in a horrible, violent way. This isn't entertainment. Their personal tragedies shouldn't be your way to make a living, Gale. It's cruel."

Gale rolled her eyes. "They can decide that for themselves, Dewey. They want justice, and I can help."

"You should back off, Gale." Dewey frowned again.

"Sorry, Dewey. I've got to go. I'm following a lead." Gale exhaled and started to walk around him.

"Wait..." Dewey reached out and grabbed her wrist before she could leave. "What lead?"

"It's classified." Gale shrugged out of his grip and walked away.

Stanley jogged up behind her. She could feel Dewey's eyes still watching too, and it gave her great satisfaction to feel like she was doing his job better than he was, and that she could be the one to hold back information from him for a change. She supposed if he wanted to talk to her later, she wouldn't stop him, but the information would need to flow both ways, or not at all.

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	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

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"Stay here." Gale told Stanley as she reached for the handle of the door on the passenger side of the news van.

"Seriously?" Stanley frowned. She saw his shoulders slump. "Why am I even here? Am I just your chauffeur at this point? You know how to drive... If you don't need anything recorded-"

"I might later, Stanley." Gale told him in a slow, measured voice, trying to resist the urge to be rude. "This is a private event. They might not let me in at all, and they sure as hell won't if I show up with a camera crew behind me."

"I'm hardly a crew." Stanley frowned.

"No. You hardly are." Gale agreed. "I'll be back. Hopefully soon, okay?"

"Sure..." Stanley exhaled and leaned back in the driver's seat. He closed his eyes.

Gale shook her head and rolled her eyes as she closed the door and headed up toward the house. It was eleven thirty - she'd arrived a little later than Danny told her, just in case. Hopefully all the parents had gone home. She found teenagers were often much more forthcoming to the press than adults were.

As Danny had suggested, Gale made her way around the side of the house, walking toward the faint glow which was undoubtedly coming from a fire back behind the barn.

A part of her felt like this wasn't a great idea. There was potentially a serial killer on the loose and she was going to a small event hosted by high school kids, by herself, in the middle of the night... at a bonfire by a barn. The setting alone was a serial killer's dream, and the kids involved were closely tied to the ones already murdered...

Even so, she wanted a good story, and more than that, she wanted answers - justice for the murdered kids, and a good lead so she could help stop the person or people responsible. The sooner this was figured out, the fewer victims would likely be claimed. If this was going to be anything like the other Woodsboro murders, the killer was building up to something - his or her final victim, and was going to take out lots of others along the way. Gale had to do what she could to keep that from happening - while getting some juicy bits for her news program in the process, of course.

As she walked a fair distance behind the house, several figures came into view. She recognized Danny from the event at the high school, but she couldn't honestly claim to have ever seen the others before.

Gale forced a smile as soon as Danny noticed her. He put his hand on the shoulder of a girl with shoulder-length blonde hair and whispered something to her, nodding toward Gale. The girl looked suspicious, but made her way over anyway.

"Gale Weathers?" The girl stared with raised eyebrows.

"Yes. And you are...?" Gale held her hand out for the girl to shake it.

"Amy Anderson." She answered, shaking Gale's hand. "Danny told me you wanted to ask me some stuff about Skylar."

"Yes. If you don't mind. I'm trying to help the police get to the bottom of this." Gale told her.

Amy frowned. "Are you working with them? Because one of their favorite cops is the brother of the guy who I think did this. You're not going to get anywhere other than a cover up if you're working with them."

"Really?" Gale raised her eyebrows. "No... I'm not working with them. As a matter of fact, I tried to collaborate with them and they aren't really accepting any of my help. Who's your suspect? Why do you think the cops are covering it up?"

Amy exhaled. "You've got to promise to keep this out of your news show for now. I love Top Story as much as anyone in Woodsboro, but I don't want to risk making this worse. I do want to go public eventually... just not yet."

"Fair enough." Gale nodded.

"Well, you know the cop Anthony Skinner?" Amy went on.

Gale shrugged and shook her head. She didn't know all of the Woodsboro cops these days. "I know Dewey... or uh... Dwight Riley. And the sheriff... As I've said, they're not really giving me the time of day. I don't know the others' names."

"Anthony hangs out with Officer Riley. They're partners. Riley was more sympathetic when questioning me. Anthony was a bastard." Amy told her.

Gale nodded. Anthony was probably the cop with Dewey at the school today then.

"Anyway, his brother Henry raped me at a party a couple weeks ago. I went to the police about it - made the mistake of talking to Anthony because I didn't know they were brothers... and by the time I figured out I should have talked to someone else, all the evidence was gone, and now half the school doesn't believe me. Half the cops don't believe me. The ones who kind of claim they might believe me say there's nothing they can do without evidence... But I haven't been quiet about it. I've told everyone about what he did... and I don't think he likes that I did." Amy exhaled. "He's told me to shut up about it - said he'd make sure I was sorry if I kept being vocal... and look what happened."

Gale swallowed. "You think he killed your sister to retaliate for you failing to keep quiet?"

Amy nodded. "He said I'd be sorry..." She whispered, blinking back tears and swallowing hard. "But where do we go from here? That motive doesn't work if the cops can't bring themselves to believe he ever even did anything to me. But he did. I wouldn't lie about that."

"I'm sure you wouldn't." Gale frowned.

"And his girlfriend Emily doesn't really like me either - she either believes him, or doesn't care that he's a rapist." Amy went on. "She could be a potential accomplice. Or his friend Allen who works with him. Or maybe it's just him. He could have killed Skylar and Tyson both. He's certainly capable."

"Do you feel like you're in danger?" Gale asked. "Would this be where he ends this - killing Skylar and Tyson to get back at you and that's it? Or do you think he might go on to make this into something bigger? Has he expressed any interest in the other Woodsboro murder sprees? Or do you know of anyone who has?"

"Everyone has." Amy frowned. "It's a high school. Teenagers love drama and gore and fame... Hardly anyone isn't obsessed with the ghost-face thing. As for Henry taking this further..." She shrugged. "He could. I guess we'll find out while the cops refuse to arrest him for anything."

"I can't say that it would necessarily make the cops any more likely to do anything about it, but publicity has been known to help draw attention to injustices like this. I do have a large audience if you want your story told. I've done stories like yours in the past." Gale told her.

"Yeah? The biggest one I can think of is you defending an accused rapist. That's hardly the same." Amy raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest.

"He was innocent - and his alleged victim never claimed otherwise. This is different." Gale explained. "However, I would be obligated to allow Henry equal air-time. I'm not saying I don't believe you, but I have an obligation to tell all sides of any story."

Amy scowled. "Forget it. This isn't a political debate. He doesn't deserve time to speak. He's a rapist, and probably a murder. Story over."

"All the more reason to let him talk. He might incriminate himself by saying something stupid. Criminals love talking to the press when they don't think they're suspects." Gale explained.

"No." Amy shook her head. "And please don't interview him for your show, Gale. That's the last thing this town needs - the killer getting all the attention he's looking for - getting rewarded for all this. Will you promise not to do an interview with him for your show?"

Gale nodded, but in her head, she wasn't sure. If Henry agreed to an interview, she'd probably do it. It would be great for ratings, and like she said before - if he was guilty, this would be a chance for him to slip up on camera.

"Anyway... There's other kids here who could maybe help... but I feel pretty confident I just told you who the killer is. I guess you need more evidence though, and I don't know how you're gonna get that if the police won't let you work with them. It's not like you can arrest him." Amy sighed. She looked back toward the fire. "I don't know where Danny went..."

Gale looked around as well. She didn't see the young man either. "Well... don't go off on your own looking for him." She advised.

"Why? Do you think Henry might come here?" Amy's eyes widened.

"It's possible... Or if he's not the killer, whoever is the killer could. Just stick with your friends." Gale suggested. "Stay with the larger group here. Just in case."

"Okay..." Amy sounded unsure and nervous, but made her way back over toward the fire. She sat down next to a dark-haired girl and leaned down cose, whispering something to her. Another girl next to that one turned around and glanced at Gale with interest, but quickly turned back around.

Gale walked around the small group of kids. There were only six kids out here by the fire, but it seemed like there were a couple more earlier.

She narrowed her eyes and looked across the yard, toward a line of trees, a small chicken coop, the house, and finally the barn. She looked harder as she swore she saw movement in the shadows by the barn. Someone was over there, sneaking around.

Frowning, Gale looked back toward the fire with the kids sitting around it. They didn't seem interested in the barn... but someone obviously was.

Reaching into her pocket, Gale gripped a can of pepper spray she had gotten into the habit of carrying with her and made her way toward the barn. She walked as quietly as possible, watching around herself all the way, just in case.

Slipping into the barn, she noticed two figures further in, whispering. Clearly, they didn't notice she'd followed them. They were only silhouettes in the darkness. She squinted to see them better. Could this be the killer and an accomplice? Was it Henry? She swallowed and stared, watching as a small orange glow appeared in one of the shadowy figures' hands. He raised his hands up, lighting a cigarette in his mouth. Gale could see his face when he did so.

She exhaled softly. It was Danny and another boy. They each lit their cigarettes and took a few puffs as they whispered to each other and laughed. It looked like they'd just sneaked off to smoke. Probably marijuana judging by the smell.

Rolling her eyes, Gale turned back around, ready to get out of here. Besides Amy's input, it didn't seem like there was much more these kids had to offer.

Just as she was ready to leave, she flinched as she heard a horrible, blood curdling scream from behind her. With a gasp, she turned back toward the noise, in time to see a dark-clad person tackling Danny's friend to the ground. In the dim light of the moon shining through cracks in the wooden barn, Gale could see the white area of a familiar ghost mask and light reflecting off the blade of a knife.

"No!" Danny screamed as he rushed to his friend's aid. The killer had already stabbed the boy once and was doing so again, right in his chest.

Gale grimaced. It looked like he'd been stabbed directly in the heart. The chances of him surviving this were slim. Even so, she had to help if she could. She still had her pepper spray, and though it was hardly a weapon worthy of beating a knife, it could at least help Danny and her throw the killer off long enough to escape.

"Dalton!" Danny screamed as he grabbed at the killer's shoulders while the killer was stabbing the other boy again, in the stomach this time. Meanwhile, Dalton gripped feebly at his chest and stomach and coughed up blood.

As soon as Danny reached his friend's attacker, the killer spun around and swung the knife at him, narrowly missing his chest. Gale gripped her pepper spray in her hand and rushed forward as well, as the killer lunged at Danny. The young man stumbled backward, landing against the ground with the killer right on top of him.

The masked assailant stabbed down, just as Danny was attempting to dodge out of his grip. It looked like Danny's attacker managed to stab him though, and sounded like it judging by Danny's pained scream.

Gale ran up to them, shoving the killer off of Danny and spraying her pepper spray right into the eyes of the ghost mask, hoping some of it would get through the mask and throw the killer off long enough.

The shadowy stranger put his arm up against the face of the mask for a moment, but stumbled back enough for Danny to scramble away, clutching his shoulder as dark crimson blood seeped between his fingers.

The pepper spray must not have gotten into the mask too much, because the killer was back in fighting mode after only a few brief seconds. With the hand not gripping the knife, he punched Gale across the face, causing her to stumble back and land hard against the ground.

Gale brought her hand up to her face and blinked back stars as she gripped her pepper spray tightly in her fist. As the killer closed in on her, she whimpered and sprayed up into his eyes again, covering her own face with her arm so the spray wouldn't fall back into her eyes.

"Hey!" A voice she didn't recognize screamed from somewhere behind her.

"Fuck..." The killer muttered, in a gravely voice Gale only recognized as being similar to the disguised voice the other killers used. He must have obtained a similar device as them, to mask his voice.

Gale kept her arm over her eyes as she heard one set of feet running away and another running toward her. She felt tears in her eyes and they stung - the pepper spray must have found its way in, if only a little. She kept her eyes squeezed shut and her arm over her face as she flinched away from hands grabbing her arms.

"You okay?" A voice asked. She still didn't recognize it.

"Yeah." She whispered as she let the unknown person drag her up into a sitting position.

"Anthony! Call for a couple ambulances!" Dewey's urgent voice shouted from several yards away. "This one's been stabbed in the chest! He's still alive, but I don't know for how long!"

Gale moved her arm away from her face and blinked her eyes open as she looked across the barn. Dewey was applying pressure to a would on Dalton's stomach as Danny, still holding onto his own bleeding shoulder rushed to his side. Gale looked back over her shoulder at the other cop who was presently radioing for help. He must have been Anthony then - the same man she'd seen with Dewey at the school... the one Amy claimed was covering for his brother.

"Someone should go after the killer..." Gale whispered as she stared toward the back of the barn, where a small door hanged open. "He was just here... You could still catch him..."

"Not without backup... And we've got to get you guys to a hospital." Anthony answered.

Gale frowned. "I'll be your backup. I'm not hurt. Dewey can stay with them. Let's go." She started to stand, but Anthony stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Gale... He got away already. We'll get him next time. It wouldn't be safe for you to run off through the woods unarmed after a knife-wielding maniac." Anthony explained. "I know that's your instinct. I get that... but it's not the right move."

She couldn't deny that he was right. It wouldn't be smart to run off through the woods with this cop she didn't really know, in pursuit of the killer, especially not if it was Henry and Anthony really was covering for him. Gale's only weapon was pepper spray, and though it worked to an extent, long enough to save Danny, the killer was about to stab her when the cops arrived. Pepper spray wasn't good enough.

Holding her hand over her bruised cheek where the killer had hit her, Gale looked across the barn at Dewey, who was still working to save Dalton as Danny choked back a sob next to him.

By this point, Anthony had run over to join them. He was saying something to Danny, but Gale couldn't hear him. Danny looked angry and shrugged away from the cops hand on his arm. Anthony looked hurt and let the young man go. Gale guessed that Danny wasn't a fan of Anthony considering what his girlfriend had told Gale earlier tonight.

She swallowed as she thought about this case as a whole. It looked like she was right, unfortunately. This wasn't just a single incident. It was shaping up to be a repeat of the other Woodsboro killings. The killer wasn't done yet, and until they stopped him or her or them... this wasn't going to end. More people would die.

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	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter 6

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Dewey frowned as he looked across the table at Gale. She had a visible bruise on her cheek where the killer had struck her, but otherwise looked okay. She didn't look to be in a great mood, but she was relatively unharmed, and for that Dewey was grateful. It made him feel sick knowing how close the killer had gotten to her. If he and Anthony hadn't shown up when they did, she would have most likely been killed. So would have Danny.

Dalton's screams had alerted the two cops who were patrolling the area after receiving a call about a large bonfire. He'd seen Gale's news van parked in front of the house and was disappointed in himself that Gale was clearly more in the know about what was going on with the kids closely connected to this case than he or any of the other Woodsboro police were. He felt both guilty and frustrated with this whole thing. First, Gale wasn't sharing information with him - that could have gotten her killed. Maybe if he and Anthony had been informed about this event, they could have been present the whole time - maybe Dalton would have lived. Gale investigating on her own was dangerous. She wasn't the police. She wasn't trained to act like she was.

This morning, Dewey, Anthony, and Cody were interviewing everyone who was at the bonfire last night. After taking eight hours off to sleep and to let the surviving victims of the killer's latest attack get medical attention and a bit of rest, Dewey was back to work on this exhausting case.

There were ten people at the event, including Gale and her camera man, and Tyson's parents were asleep in the house. They would have to be questioned too - just in case. Since Dalton Miller unfortunately did not survive his wounds, the three cops had eleven witnesses to interview. Dewey's lineup included Gale, her camera man Stanley, and two of the high school students, Maria Sanchez, and Abby Skinner - who happened to be Anthony's sister. Anthony didn't want to be the one to interview her since there was a conflict of interest. Even though Dewey felt fairly certain there was a conflict of interest with him interviewing Gale, he didn't pass her off on anyone else. He wasn't sure she'd talk to him at all if he didn't kind of force her to.

Dewey had gone with Danny, Dalton, and Gale to the hospital, and had offered to let Gale stay the night at his house after the doctor had cleared her to go home, but she had refused. She still seemed pretty upset with him. This was probably going to be his only chance to have a real conversation with her.

"Are you feeling okay?" Dewey asked as he looked across the table at her.

"I'm fine." Gale held her head high and frowned back at him.

Dewey nodded. "Okay... That's good. I've got to ask you some questions about what you witnessed last night."

"I don't know why I should feel obligated to talk to you, Dewey." Gale scowled across the table. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Either you want me to work with you or you don't. Make up your mind."

"You're a witness, Gale." Dewey frowned back. "I'd really appreciate it if you'd talk to me. It's my job to interview witnesses of crimes like this... Just let me do what I'm paid to do. Please?"

Gale nodded slightly, but still stared him down with ice blue eyes, daring him to ask her anything she didn't want to discuss.

Dewey exhaled. Gale made him so anxious sometimes. "When did you arrive at the party?" He asked.

"About eleven thirty." She answered simply.

"Did you and Stanley Donaldson travel there together?"

"Yes." Gale responded. She was still glaring at him.

"Where was he while you were in the barn?" Dewey wondered.

"In the news van." Gale answered.

"Are you sure?" Dewey asked.

Gale frowned. "Is he a suspect?" She asked.

"I can't answer that." Dewey frowned.

Gale crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.

"Gale..." Dewey exhaled. "I'm a cop... I have to ask questions. I know you want to be part of this case, but you're not a cop. I'll get fired if I share this stuff with the press... You know that."

"I'm not just the press, Dewey!" Gale stared back, looking legitimately hurt. "I can keep things to myself, believe it or not. I'm trying to help. I know I put a lot into my news broadcast, but I care about stopping this guy too, and by no means do I want you to lose your job. I can respect that."

"Then you need to respect that I can't have someone who isn't a part of the police department working on this case with me." Dewey further explained. "Not only is it illegal, but it's dangerous. Look where investigating on your own led you, Gale... You could have been killed!"

"If you let me work with you, it wouldn't have been as dangerous. It's only dangerous because you're investigating alone and I'm investigating alone." Gale told him. "Let me work with you. We can stick together and figure this out."

"I'm not alone, Gale. The police work in partners. That's why it's safer for us. I don't go on calls by myself. That's why this is best left up to the cops, because we have protocol and procedures to follow. You were sneaking off on your own. I stick with my partner at all times."

"Your partner?" Gale frowned. "You mean the guy covering for his brother?"

Dewey frowned. He knew exactly what Gale was referring to. "Henry's crimes are at this time only alleged by one individual person who was supposedly there. He denies it. There's no evidence. We can't arrest him with no evidence. What do you expect Anthony to do? Arrest him with no proof?"

"Do you honestly think that girl would lie about being raped, Dewey?" Gale scowled. "Why would she lie about that?"

Dewey shook his head and swallowed. "Of course I don't. I'm inclined to believe her, but there's no evidence. I would never accuse a victim of sexual assault of lying, Gale, but I can't arrest Henry with no evidence. Even if I arrested him, even if it went to trial... There's just no proof. There's nothing we can really do, because Amy showered and washed the clothing she said she was wearing before ever talking to me. If there was evidence, it's gone."

"She said she talked to Anthony first, and that he didn't take her seriously." Gale went on. "Maybe if he hadn't brushed it off, she would have been able to come up with evidence the first time she came to the cops."

Dewey frowned. "He told me he advised her to go to the hospital."

"I don't think he did, Dewey." Gale stared back. "He shouldn't have been on that case."

"I don't disagree with that." Dewey sighed. "There was a conflict of interest there, and Anthony should have handed the case over to someone else... but that doesn't mean he's hiding anything or covering anything up."

"Maybe not... but he could be. A girl came up to him and told him that Henry, the little brother who he loves and wants only the best for, has committed a crime that will scar his and his family's lives forever... It stands to reason that Anthony does know Henry is guilty, and is covering for him. Like I said." Gale stared with raised eyebrows.

"It's possible a part of Anthony suspects that perhaps Henry is guilty of rape but isn't sure, and of course doesn't want to believe it. Yes." Dewey answered. "But... there's no evidence one way or the other. It's just her word against his. Of course nobody wants to believe their little brother is a rapist... But even if he is, that doesn't mean he's the killer."

"He killed his victim's younger sister. Tried to kill her boyfriend last night. Put the fucking puzzle together, Dewey." Gale scoffed. "It's not that hard."

Dewey frowned. He needed to regain control of this interview. Maybe he really should have let Anthony or Cody question Gale instead. It was called 'conflict of interest' for a reason...

"Who all did you talk to at the party, Gale?" Dewey asked, deciding his best course of action would be to ignore the mini-argument they'd just had and move on with the interview.

"Amy Anderson. That's it. I talked to her, followed the boys into the barn... Then they were attacked. That's all. I was only there ten minutes at the most before the killer attacked." Gale answered, crossing her arms over her chest again and leaning back against her chair. "I don't have much to tell you about this, Dewey. I saw the killer for thirty... fifty seconds... Dressed in the usual ghost face costume with the black robe... It was quick, and then he ran off when your partner came in, had a clear shot, but screamed at him instead of shooting... If that tells you anything."

Dewey felt his shoulders slump. "What exactly are you trying to say, Gale? That you think Henry Skinner is the killer, that Anthony knows, and that he isn't doing anything about it?"

"There you go." Gale stared back. "Who else could it be? And why wouldn't Anthony take the shot unless he knows who the killer is and doesn't want him dead?"

Dewey frowned. "It happened so fast... The killer ran off as soon as we got in there. That, and he was right there, feet away from you, with Danny and Dalton behind him. Shooting would have been reckless. He could have hit you or the boys on accident. We're trained not to shoot in crowded areas unless absolutely necessary. When the killer moved to flee, he was no longer an immediate threat."

"He's not running away forever, Dewey." Gale told him.

"Gale..." Dewey shook his head and closed his eyes. "I'm not here to defend my partner to you. We need to get your witness statement down on paper."

"You're the one who keeps getting distracted." Gale stared back. "Maybe if you'd have let me talk to you outside this one fucking scheduled appointment, I wouldn't have to let it all out now."

"I'll talk to you Gale... anytime you want. I just can't pretend like you're a cop!" Dewey's voice raised. "I just want you to keep yourself out of danger! The killer almost killed you last night, Gale! Do you realize how close you came to dying? You're not trained to take on violent criminals. I am!"

Dewey looked up toward his office's door and Gale looked over her shoulder as a knock rang out. Sheriff Lake opened the door part way and leaned into the room. "Everything okay in here?" She asked with a frown.

"Yes." Dewey sighed.

"Do you want me to have someone else question her?" Lake asked. "I'm trusting you won't let your past get in the way on this, Dwight, but if it's interfering..."

"It's not. We're fine." Dewey forced a smile.

"Okay... If you change your mind, let me know. If Cody and Anthony don't have time, I can talk to her myself. Might get more answers..." Lake suggested.

Dewey shook his head. He doubted Lake would get more answers from Gale than Dewey would. Gale didn't seem too fond of the sheriff. With Dewey, it was tough for the two of them to stay on-topic, but she was at least talking between arguing.

"I'll be out here if you change your mind." Lake exited, closing the door behind her.

"Our past?" Gale's shoulders slumped as she turned back toward Dewey and pouted. For once, she actually looked more sad than angry. "Since when is our relationship the past?"

Dewey frowned. "It's not... I just... You kind of disappeared for a while there. We didn't even talk... Gale, I care about you a lot. I don't want anything to happen to you, which is why it's so painful to me that you're putting yourself in danger. If you're a target-"

"I'm not." She interrupted. "Danny and Dalton were the targets. I was just there."

"Will you please at least keep me informed? Let me know where you're going? If you insist on investigating this on your own, tell me where you'll be." Dewey asked.

"I don't need a babysitter. Did you have any more questions, or can I go?" Gale frowned.

Dewey exhaled. "Just a couple more. When you were up close to the killer - what kind of build would you say he or she had? About how tall were they?"

"Average build I guess? The robe doesn't show body-shape that well." Gale answered. "And he was taller than me. Maybe six foot? It's hard to say."

"Is there a reason you refer to the killer as 'he?'" Dewey asked.

"He seemed large - more like a man... and of course, as I said..." Gale smirked slightly. "It's probably Henry Skinner - a man."

"Have you talked to Henry?" Dewey wondered.

"Not yet." Gale answered.

"Gale..." Dewey exhaled again. "Leave it to me. I've talked to him already... And I plan on talking to him again. If he's the killer, the evidence will show up eventually. Just leave this to us."

Gale stared back, but didn't make any promises to obey Dewey's suggestion.

"You said your camera man was in the news van." Dewey went on.

"Yes. I asked him to wait there while I went up to the high school kids. I didn't think they'd talk to me if I brought a camera man." Gale told him.

"Well, when Anthony and I got there, we saw your van, but I didn't see anyone in the front seat." Dewey told her. "Was he accounted for when the first murders took place?"

Gale rolled her eyes. "Did you look up close or did you just not see him sitting up in the front seat? He leaned the seat back. I think he planned on taking a nap while he waited. And we weren't even in town yet when the first two kids were killed."

Dewey nodded. "Was he with you that night? Do you know for sure-"

"No, he wasn't with me, but he was the next morning. We drove here together. He would have had to have taken a pretty quick plane trip here and back in order to film my news report that afternoon, came here to kill a couple kids he had no connection to, and be back in time to make the trip here with me." Gale explained. "Is he honestly your suspect?" She stared at him as though he were an idiot.

"I have a lot of suspects, Gale." Dewey told her.

"Is Henry one of them?" She asked.

Dewey pressed his lips together. She always had a way of making him feel like a moron. Of course Henry was a suspect, but he wasn't the only one. He wanted to believe Amy wouldn't make up a story about being raped, but at the same time, he'd met Henry, and the young man seemed like a good kid. He wasn't sure what to think.

"Let's put it this way, Gale..." Dewey spoke in careful, measured words. "Pretty much everyone who hasn't been attacked or killed is a suspect in my book. Trust me when I say the Woodsboro Police Department is working on it - day and night, nonstop. We're gonna figure this out."

Gale sighed and stood up. "Are we done?"

Dewey frowned. "Yes. I guess that's all for now. Please be careful out there, Gale." He doubted she was going to take his advice and leave this to the cops.

"You too, Dewey." She offered a very forced, almost sad-looking smile before turning to leave.

Dewey exhaled, closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair. He didn't know what to do about her. He cared about her so much it made his heart hurt, but he couldn't pretend like she was a cop. He'd get fired, and she'd be putting herself into even more danger than she already was.

He certainly hoped he and the police department found the killer before Gale did.

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	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

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Dewey finished writing up his reports on his interviews with the various high school kids he had interviewed recently as well as those for the interviews he conducted with Gale and her camera man Stanley. He wondered how possible it was that Gale was right about Anthony's brother, and in that case, about Anthony himself. Could it possibly be that Henry was the killer and Anthony knew? Would Anthony really allow his brother to kill innocent people. Dewey really didn't think so. He'd looked up to Anthony ever since Dewey was hired as a cop. He couldn't believe the man would let innocent high school kids be murdered to protect his brother.

Dewey had a few suspects of his own. Unfortunately, Henry was definitely one of them. He hoped in that case that Anthony at least was not aware of it. He was also suspicious of Gale's camera man though. He really could have managed to make it to Woodsboro and back before Gale had time to notice he was gone. It would have been a tight trip, but it was possible. Stanley could also have an accomplice here in Woodsboro, but Dewey had researched the man and couldn't find any connection. He wasn't even from this state.

"Are you two still dating then, or...?" Anthony spoke up from across the room as he leaned back in his chair. He didn't seem to be writing down anything. Maybe he had finished his work already.

Dewey sighed. "I don't know... We didn't really ever start dating, I don't think... I guess we never put a name to whatever it is we have going on. We have that natural attraction. I can tell she feels it too, and we've kissed, and uh... Well, I mean, we've been close, but we aren't as much right now. I'm not sure we were ever dating in the first place. I mean, we were something, but was it dating? I can't really be sure. I guess I never asked her, or ever really said or heard her say that we were like official or anything."

Anthony nodded. "I'd guess no then... Usually if you're dating someone... well... you'd know it." He offered a laugh and shook his head as though amused by the situation. "Maybe it was just a fling... or a couple of flings. You seem tense and stressed out around her. Maybe it wasn't meant to be."

Dewey frowned. "I wouldn't say that. It wasn't a fling. I still really care about her... and she hasn't done anything too unforgivable. We just need to talk... about something that isn't this case. She's mad that I haven't told her anything confidential... I'll just have to explain to her that I can't risk my job for it. She'll understand."

Anthony shrugged. "She might. She might not."

"Well, she'll have to." Dewey looked back down at his report.

"She's not stupid, Dwight. She knows you're not supposed to leak sensitive information to the press. She just wants you to ignore that rule - make her an exception, since you two are together... or whatever you'd call it. That's all I'm saying... She understands. She just doesn't see why you don't bend the rules for her." Anthony went on.

"I can't, Anthony." Dewey frowned and glanced back across the room at his partner. "I know she's pissed... And she thinks she should be an exception... I even understand that expectation, but I can't. I could lose my job. She knows that. Why do I have to be the one to cave?"

"I'm not saying you should, man. You don't need to tell her shit." Anthony told him. "What I am saying though, is that she's probably not going to stop feeling cheated, and you certainly won't feel good giving her the information when you know she can't keep it to herself. There's no way for you to win in this situation."

Dewey looked down again and nodded. Anthony was right. He could keep the information to himself and have Gale hate him... or he could give her what she wanted and possibly get fired - and sacrifice his ideals and morals. Maybe getting her involved would put her in more danger... but not letting her in on the information wasn't exactly keeping her safe either. She was probably out there questioning potential murderers all by herself right now. There was no option for him that was entirely preferable.

"Maybe you can just tell her stuff she probably already knows. Make it seem like you're telling her everything you can... but keep certain things quiet." Cody suggested from his desk.

"I say you just tell her how it's gonna be and see what happens. If she really likes you as a person, she won't let that get in the way of whatever relationship-ish thing the two of you have. A genuine relationship doesn't require this much stress." Anthony noted.

"I guess." Dewey frowned.

"Anyway I'm gonna go have a smoke. Be right back." Anthony told him. He exited through the front door of the station.

"He better hope this is just extreme high school kid drama and not another Woodsboro-wide serial killer." Cody spoke up. "Never a good idea to go outside all by yourself in the dark when there's a serial murderer running around."

Dewey exhaled. "Well, hopefully that's not what it is. Sounds like there's a lot of drama at the high school. Hopefully it's just something personal and not a repeat of before. Gale and Danny said the killer was wearing the same costume as before... but still... Hopefully it's a high school kid getting what he or she considers revenge, and it'll stop here. Not that what has already happened isn't terrible... Just, I don't want this to be as big as the others. High school drama that ends in death is horrible, but this can get a lot worse. If it's like before, a whole lot more people are going to die. I don't want this to end up as another convoluted plot some lunatic has that's going to throw the whole town into panic and get a dozen people killed." He shook his head and shuddered to himself. "I've had more than enough of that."

"I'll bet." Cody laughed nervously. "Any tips on surviving? If it does turn out to be copycat?"

Dewey glanced across the room at him and frowned. He never would have guessed that he'd one day become a sort of mentor to someone, but it seemed like Cody looked up to him and depended upon him for advice and answers. Usually Dewey was the one looking for guidance, so it was strange to have a younger officer sort of idolizing him. He shrugged and shook his head. "I didn't really do anything special to survive... Just got lucky."

"Well, sure... but you did survive. Both times. You have to have been doing something right." Cody remarked.

"Lots of people survived." Dewey noted. "Sidney, Randy, Gale, Cotton... they were all there last time... We all survived. I guess it helps if the killer's idiotic plan involves some grand reveal that he wants you to be a part of. He wanted all five of us to be witness to his explanation, but killing five people all at once isn't as easy as picking people off one at a time. He screwed up."

"So I should hope the killer wants me around at the big reveal?" Cody frowned.

Dewey exhaled. "Now you're sounding like Randy. You know in real life most killers don't want a big reveal, right? You do know that?"

Cody shrugged. "It would make a more interesting story."

"But it's stupid on the part of the criminal. Why tell anyone your plan and risk a living witness foiling your plot? If Billy and Stu hadn't wasted time telling Sidney every detail behind their plan... if they had just killed her... They may have gotten away with it. Why spill your guts to someone you're about to kill anyway?" Dewey frowned. "It's their undoing. Xavier did the same thing. He could have killed Gale several times, but chose to wait so it would be a big spectacle - so Sidney, Randy, Cotton, and I could be there and die along with her. He could have killed Sidney and Randy earlier too. He was outside Sid's house, just toying with them for a while. His mistake was the audience he wanted and the lengths he went to to get it."

Cody nodded. "So... whoever the killer is... I need to make sure he wants me in his audience... How do I do that?" His shoulders slumped.

"Again, that's only if we're dealing with someone like the others. Maybe this guy is smarter. Maybe it's not even a serial killing. It's just been two people." Dewey reminded him. "But to answer your question - I guess the best way to ensure you're part of the finale would be to figure out who the big target is - which victim is the biggest one for this killer - the one he's saving for the end... And then you've got to be close to that person, but not too close. All Sidney's friends got killed... I guess what I'm saying is, it's really complicated, and again, based mostly on luck."

"Well, I guess I hope I get lucky." Cody laughed.

Both in inhaled sharp breaths when the power suddenly cut out.

Dewey fumbled around for his flashlight and clicked it on. He noticed Cody had done the same. They both shined their lights at each other. Cody looked extremely nervous.

"It's not storming..." Cody noted in a breathless voice.

Dewey swallowed. A part of him wanted to believe that this was a coincidence. That the power had for some reason failed on its own. A larger part of him feared this was something more - something serious. He glanced toward the front door, where Anthony had exited about five minutes earlier. He hoped his mentor was okay.

"Let's go check the breaker box." Dewey suggested. It was in the basement. "We'll stick together." He added with a firm nod.

"Yeah..." Cody exhaled, following close behind him.

As they made their way toward the basement, Dewey felt Cody lingering very close behind him. The younger man was clearly nervous. Dewey could even hear his quick breaths, and might have even felt them on his back.

"Last time the killer killed one of the cops here, Dewey," Cody remembered, "I was pretty new... I wasn't working, and the sheriff told me to sit that one out.

"I remember." Dewey noted as they reached the breaker box. He opened it and observed its contents. "Someone turned it off manually, Cody." Dewey told him, furrowing his brow. What if whoever had flipped the switch was still down here? Dewey was almost afraid to turn the power back on. If the killer was messing with them, maybe he was just waiting for the lights to come back before jumping out and attacking.

"Dewey... we should call someone..." Cody hissed.

"Like who? The police?" Dewey frowned. "Just draw your weapon. Stay alert-"

Dewey was cut off when Cody let out a startling, piercing scream. Before Dewey could even turn the lights back on, his attention was stolen away as he turned around toward Cody, who was staggering away from a dark-clad stranger, who wearing the all-too-familiar ghost-face mask.

With a gasp, Dewey fumbled for his gun as he watched Cody flee up the basement stairs. The killer followed right behind him. Cody was wincing from whatever wound he'd already been inflicted, but Dewey couldn't really see well enough to tell where he'd been stabbed or how serious it was.

"Hey!" Dewey yelled out, hoping to draw the killer's attention away from Cody. Dewey managed to grab his gun and raised it up toward the killer, but he'd have to be careful not to hit Cody by mistake.

The killer tilted his head slightly. Dewey imagined he may have been smiling under the mask as he grabbed Cody and stabbed him in the stomach before throwing him down the stairs.

Dewey gasped as Cody stumbled down, landing on Dewey and causing the cop to lose his grip on his gun. The gun skittered across the floor as Dewey was pinned under his friend.

He didn't have time to see if Cody was okay. He had to get his gun back... but the killer was fast, and leaped down the stairs, climbing on top of Cody and stabbing, viciously, over and over. Dewey felt tears in his eyes and a scream in his throat as he struggled under the weight of the two men. He couldn't believe this was happening - that his friend was being murdered, brutally, right on top of him... Dewey knew he would surely be next.

"Stop!" Anthony's voice called from the top of the stairs. He fired a shot, but seemingly missed. The killer jumped up and ran, pushing past Anthony and escaping.

"Dewey! Cody!" Anthony's voice was shaking as he climbed down the stairs. "Oh my god!" He pulled Cody off of Dewey and put his hands over one of the larger of the man's wounds. "I don't think he's gonna make it... He might already be dead. Oh my god, Dewey..."

"I'm going after the killer!" Dewey decided as he staggered to his feet. He could hear anger in his voice and felt adrenaline in his blood. The killer was so close. He'd be an idiot not to pursue the guy. They'd made that mistake once back at the barn. Dewey wasn't going to let him get away this time.

"Dewey, don't!" Anthony urged, but didn't move to stop him.

Dewey ran up the stairs and out the front door of the police station. With his breaths deep and quick, Dewey looked frantically around the area. He saw no movement whatsoever. He took a step forward and looked around more, debating running off in a random direction and hoping the killer had made the same choice.

As he stood on the steps, his eyes scanning every inch of the outside world, Dewey felt tears stinging his eyes. His throat felt tight and his heart pounded. There were so many paths the killer could have taken after running out the front door. Dewey saw no witnesses nearby. No one would have seen anything... The killer had escaped. Dewey wasn't going to catch him. Not tonight.

Dewey felt his lip tremble as he reached for the radio on his belt. "This is Deputy Riley. I need an ambulance at the police station." He spoke into the radio with a shaking voice. "Officer down. Multiple stab wounds... Likely fatal."

He released his hold on the radio, allowing the device to fall from his hand as he let himself crumple to the ground as well. He heard a voice responding to him, but couldn't make out what it was saying. All he could focus on was the thought that Cody had just been killed. And Dewey had failed to save him. The cop was armed and everything... and he still failed.

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	8. Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

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When Gale had heard that there was something going on at the police station, she was immediately terrified for Dewey's sake. She had tried calling the police station, but had received no answer. Either they weren't answering their phones, or too many people were calling and they couldn't respond to them all.

So she and Stanley had jumped into the news van and headed over from their hotel.

"Are we going to do a report? Or are we just checking on your cop friend?" Stanley wondered as he pulled up into the lot.

Gale shook her head as he stared out the windshield, leaning forward and trying to see if she could spot Dewey within the commotion. There were several ambulances and a gathering crowd of intrigued gawkers.

"Do you want me to bring the camera?" Stanley went on as he drove slowly through the lot, looking for a place to park.

"I don't care." Gale opened her door and jumped out while the van was still moving slowly.

"Gale!" Stanley yelled as he put on the brakes. "Don't do that! I could have run you over."

Gale waved dismissively and slammed the door shut as she rushed toward the police station. She pushed through the crowd until her eyes met those of the sheriff - Dana Lake.

"Wow. You're quick. First reporter here. I'm sure you won't be the last though. You're like flies on shit." Sheriff Lake muttered as she turned away and asked another small group of people to step back.

Gale shook her head and fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Is Dewey okay?" She asked.

Sheriff Lake turned toward her with raised eyebrows. "What, no camera this time?"

Gale felt her lower lip shaking. "Is Dewey alright?" She asked again. "Just answer me! This isn't for the news! Why are you being like this?"

"Like what? Cold-hearted, cruel? Tactless?" Lake responded. "I thought you'd like it, Gale. As always, we aren't talking to the press. The victim or victims' names remain unreleased. You'll have to wait, like everyone else. We notify family members first. Everyone else has to wait."

Gale exhaled and shook her head, turning away and making her way toward the ambulances. She'd get her answers elsewhere.

She pushed through another crowd who was gawking from a distance, behind police tape. They were staring at an ambulance with its doors closed.

"The body's in there." Someone whispered.

"Who is it?" Another person wondered.

"A cop, I think."

Gale's throat tightened as she shoved through the crowd, going right up to the ambulance and pulling the door open herself.

"Ma'am! You can't be in here!" A paramedic grabbed her arm and pulled her back away from the vehicle. "Is he dead?" Her voice shook. The body in the ambulance was covered in a white sheet, with lots of blood soaking through. Whoever it was - they were deceased. Otherwise they would be receiving medical attention.

"We tried to save him. He was gone when we got here... We tried anyway... Wait... Are you a relative? I'm probably not supposed to be telling you this..." The paramedic grimaced.

"A relative to whom?" Gale stared back with wide eyes. She felt her heart pounding in her chest. She needed answers. Now!

"Gale!" It was Dewey's voice she heard behind her now. She felt tears stinging her eyes as she abandoned her conversation with the paramedic and turned toward him.

"Dewey!" Gale couldn't help the relieved sob that choked its way out of her throat as she closed the distance between them and wrapped him up in a hug. "You're okay!"

"Yeah... I am..." He hugged her back. "I'm covered in blood, Gale..." He noted as he tried to pull away out of her embrace.

"I don't care." She shook her head and tightened her hold around him. "I thought you were dead. Your sheriff wouldn't tell me anything..."

"You present yourself as a reporter... She doesn't like the media." Dewey frowned.

"She knows you and I have a sort of relationship... It wouldn't have been a big deal for her to at least tell me you weren't dead. She's being needlessly cruel." Gale pulled back and stared up at him.

"Sounds like someone else I know." Dewey laughed.

"I don't do anything with cruelty in mind, Dewey." Gale pouted. "My reporting hurts feelings sometimes, but it's never my aim to be cruel. I just come across that way to some people - people who think with their hearts instead of their brains. There was no reason she couldn't tell me you were okay."

"Are you sure that's not your heart talking, Gale?" He frowned.

Gale shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I deserve to know if someone I care about is alive or dead, Dewey. She's just trying to prove a point."

"She's got rules, and she sticks to them is all." Dewey frowned.

Gale exhaled and closed her eyes. Her nerves were finally settling. "What happened here, Dewey?" She asked. "Who's in the ambulance?"

"I shouldn't say..." Dewey hesitated. "It's not public information yet."

"I'm not the public, Dewey! Why are you still being like this? Let me help you! I've got information you could probably use. I've been investigating on my own since you won't let me join your little club." Gale crossed her arms over her chest and scowled up at him.

"Club? It's called the police force, Gale. We don't let people just join because they feel like it - whether they're our girlfriends or whatever. I can't just give you information that's still not released."

"Girlfriend?" Gale raised her eyebrows. "Is that what I am to you? We haven't really spoken in weeks, Dewey. Besides you telling me to go away."

She noticed Dewey's shoulders slump. Maybe he was finally seeing this her way. "Off the record."

Gale felt a smile tugging at her lips, but did her best to prevent it from spreading. She nodded as she stared up at him with wide eyes.

"It's my coworker, Cody. He, Anthony and I were working. The power went out. Cody and I went down to turn it on. The killer attacked us. He stabbed Cody - so viciously. I tried to stop him, but he threw Cody down the stairs. Cody landed on me and the killer just kept going... Stabbing and stabbing. Gale, it was awful..." Dewey rattled.

Gale exhaled. That was strangely easy. However reluctant Dewey was to give her information, he always seemed to let it all spill out eventually. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Gale frowned.

"I'm fine." Dewey frowned.

"And Anthony? Could he be the killer?" Gale's eyes widened. Maybe that was the answer she'd been looking for... Henry was the obvious killer, but his possible accomplice was not... It could be his own brother. "Where was he?"

"He went out to smoke-"

Gale gasped. "Have you located him? Oh my god, Dewey. This is huge! The killer is a cop!?"

Dewey shook his head. "Shhh. No, Gale. This is why I shouldn't talk to you. I shouldn't have said anything... You should go..."

Gale felt her shoulders slump as she shook her head. "Well, you've got to tell me now... Is Anthony a suspect?"

"No. He's not." Dewey hissed. "He's the reason I'm not dead too. He tried to stop the killer. He was too late to save Cody, but scared him off before he could kill me too."

"Oh..." Gale almost felt disappointment now. Not that she wanted the killer to be a crooked cop... She just wanted answers.

"He saved you too, Gale, last night." Dewey added. "When I heard Dalton screaming in the barn, I assumed it was just teengers being teenagers - drinking, being needlessly loud and shrill... It was Anthony's idea to check it out."

"But he could still be an accomplice..." Gale suggested.

Dewey shook his head. "He was at the station with me when Skylar and Tyson were killed, obviously wasn't the killer this time or last... I think it's just one person this time, Gale. There seemed to be a pattern at first, but with Cody that's changed. He's not the same age as the other victims, has no connection to them... It doesn't fit... So I guess if there is an accomplice, I'd guess this could be his or her work - just because it doesn't fit the MO."

Gale nodded. That was true. She could see why Henry - or another killer if it wasn't him - would target several members of the same social group, but why Cody? "Who did he interview this morning?" Gale wondered. "Maybe he was unknowingly interviewing the killer rather than a witness... asked too many questions... That would explain why he'd be targetted."

Dewey frowned, but looked like he was seriously considering this possibility. "I think I've said too much already." He finally said.

Gale frowned. "But we're finally getting somewhere..."

"Gale, I've got to go." Dewey spoke as he looked across the crowd. Gale turned to look at what he was seeing. Sheriff Lake was on the steps of the police station, behind a stretch of police tape, glaring in their direction.

Gale wanted to yell at him, to tell him he was being a coward... but he'd just witnessed his friend die. He was probably pretty close to being killed himself. She needed to be nice for once. "Okay..." Gale squeezed his shoulder. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Yeah." Dewey frowned. He was in a bad mood, but Gale didn't blame him. His friend had just been killed, very violently.

She frowned as she watched him walk off with his ever-present limp. He made his way toward the sheriff and followed her inside. He was probably about to get yelled at.

"Gale, do you want to do a report real quick? You're the first reporter here... Might as well..." Stanley suggested, holding his camera up and handing her her microphone.

Gale nodded. It was her job, after all. It was the reason she'd come back to Woodsboro in the first place. As much as it almost seemed cruel on her part to worry about her career when Dewey had just witnessed his friend's brutal murder and narrowly escaped his own, she knew now was the time for her to push away thoughts of empathy and compassion for at least long enough to get her story recorded. She knew when she started in this line of work that it would sometimes be awkward and she'd feel like a villain, but reports were only desirable when they were fresh. People needed up to date information, and viewers liked hearing the latest news.

She straightened her hair and skirt and buttoned the two buttons on her blazer, which she'd undone earlier today thanks to the suffocating summer heat. Clearing her throat, she held the microphone up and began. "This is Gale Weathers, reporting from Woodsboro with a shocking development." Gale began. "What started off as a tragic double murder of two local teens is spiraling into something much bigger. After last night's attack on two local teens which left one dead and the other injured, tonight a cop was killed right here at the police station. Like teen victims Skylar Anderson and Dalton Miller, the police officer was brutally stabbed to death. The victim is one Cody Smith, a young officer who was working tonight with officers Dwight Riley and Anthony Skinner, who both survived the attack. Officer Skinner is said to be a hero of sorts, though was not fast enough to save his colleague Cody. The police have declined an interview at this time."

That was concise enough for now. They could air that tonight, and work on Dewey or maybe even Anthony for more information. Anthony didn't seem to be as by-the-book as Dewey, but Gale didn't really know him. He'd have no reason to offer her any information, especially if he really was a crooked cop who might be covering for his brother.

As she handed her microphone back to Stanley, Gale looked up toward the police steps, where Dewey stood next to Sheriff Lake. He shook his head and frowned, as though having just witnessed the greatest betrayal of his life.

Gale swallowed. It was her job to report the news. He didn't even know what she'd said in her report. He wasn't being fair. She wasn't going to get him in trouble. For all the sheriff knew, Gale got her information from a paramedic. That first guy almost did spill what he knew.

With a pout, Gale watched as Dewey followed the sheriff back inside. She felt guilty, but also angry. She and Dewey worked much better together, but he wasn't allowing her to help him. She hated that.

Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, Gale turned away. Dewey could be mad if he wanted to be. What was she supposed to do about it?

Upon turning around, Gale grimaced in annoyance and a bit of surprise when she nearly collided with someone. She recognized the man as a local reporter who was among the flock of insignificant newscasters who seemed to follow these crimes around. The man's name was Scott Van Buren and he had a history of being a rather tactless and competitive leech. Next to him was a large man with a huge camera hoisted up on his shoulder.

"Gale Weathers." The other reporter smirked. "Get your story?" He asked with raised eyebrows.

"More than you're going to get, Scott." She frowned and moved to push past him.

The other reporter reached out and grabbed her upper-arm before she could walk away.

"Don't touch me." Gale growled, pulling her arm out of his grip. She wasn't in the mood for this right now. There were two kinds of competitiveness when it came to reporting - her kind, and his. Hers involved getting there first, sweet-talking her way into interviews with people who didn't really want to talk, and sneaking around to places where she wasn't supposed to be. His involved being a complete asshole to everyone, especially his competition - other reporters.

"Sorry." Scott raised his hands in defense. "Just wondering if you've got any info you might share with me. The cops are being kinda quiet on this one. We can't all sleep our way to success."

Gale glared at him, but didn't even bother arguing. She didn't owe this guy an explanation.

"We saw you talking to one of the cops when we pulled up... Noticed you recorded something afterward... What did he tell you?" Scott asked.

"Watch my show tonight and you'll find out." Gale told him.

"Come on, Gale. We're all in this together. You should understand as well as anyone-"

"We're not friends, Scott." Gale cut him off. "I don't owe you information that you would certainly never share with me if by some miracle you ever knew something I didn't. I'm not going to do your job for you."

Scott glared at her. She looked behind him at his camera man, who wore a similar frown on his face, but didn't say anything.

"Anyway, I've got to go." Gale went on. "I didn't come all the way to this rundown town just to talk to you."

"People are going to start wondering why the reporter fucking the cop is the only one to ever know anything." Scott's voice was dripping with hate and jealousy at this point. "I guess if you want to make it in this business these days you've got to be a fucking slut."

Gale stared at him and shook her head. "If you think that's the only way to do this job it just goes to show you're in the wrong business. Get some fucking tact, Scott. If you can't even handle a local story, how the hell do you think you're ever going to get anywhere?"

"What'd you have to do for it this time, Gale? Hand job?" Scott smirked. "Blow job? You were right out here in the open though..." He looked her up and down. "You guys were standing close enough though. Was it a little hand up the skirt action?"

Gale scoffed and rolled her eyes. She wasn't involved with Dewey just for this case or any other, and she would certainly never trade sexual favors for information. She respected herself too much to stoop that low. "That's not how I get my information, Scott. Is it how you get yours? The way you talk about it... it must be. That's the only way you know how to do this job? I don't think Dewey would be interested, but you could ask Anthony... Or even the sheriff. I doubt you'd be worth it to either of them."

"Dewey?" Scott laughed, noting the nick name. "So you are close with him... That explains a lot. Might have to include it in my report..."

"Do whatever you want, idiot. I don't care what your fifteen viewers think of me." Gale finally pushed past him, grabbing Stanley's arm and dragging him toward the news van.

"Sorry, Gale..." Stanley winced in a hushed tone. He sounded nervous as he let her lead him away from the police station.

"For what?" Gale frowned, glancing over her shoulder at him for a moment as they continued walking.

"For not helping you out just then... I shouldn't have let him get away with saying that to you. He was being a disgusting pig, and I should have said something. I just didn't know what to say... He kinda caught me off-guard. I didn't expect that..." Stanley told her.

"Don't worry about it. There's never going to be a shortage of sexist bastards in the world, Stanley. He's just some local idiot. I don't care what he thinks. No one does. He's local to fucking Woodsboro for Christ sake. His audience probably couldn't fill the seats in a movie theater. He doesn't matter." Gale reminded him.

"Miss Weathers." Someone spoke up behind her. With a frustrated sigh, she turned toward the voice, looking up at Dewey's co-worker, Anthony.

"Anthony?" Gale couldn't help but to smile. If the cop she was close to wouldn't talk, maybe his friend would. This was going to be easier than she thought. She hadn't even had to approach him. He was coming to her... Perfect.

Anthony frowned and continued. "Dwight's been through a lot tonight... If he seems cold-"

"He doesn't." Gale shook her head. "I mean... he does, but I understand."

"I could talk to you." Anthony told her. "The public should know what's going on. Dana and Dwight aren't being fair. I get keeping certain things under wraps, but this is turning into a serial thing - people need to know that."

"Exactly." Gale frowned. "Why can't Dewey see that?"

"Well, he was almost killed tonight - and his friend was murdered right on top of him. The killer seriously shoved Cody so that he landed on Dwight and kept stabbing... It was awful. He's really upset."

Gale nodded. She could understand that. Even so, the public did need to know what was going on, and Gale certainly deserved to know - since she and Dewey had survived this same nightmare together twice already. That alone should have earned her a spot on his list of people he could discuss cases with.

"Want to go have a coffee? I'll tell you what I know... Well, some of it - the stuff I'm kinda sort of allowed to." He winked down at her.

Gale narrowed her eyes as she tried to read his face. In the back of her mind, he was a somewhat unlikely potential suspect. It didn't seem like he'd done any of the killings though. At the most, he knew his brother was involved and was enabling it by not speaking up... He also could have let the killer finish Dewey off, finish off Danny and Gale herself... but he didn't. He stepped in and saved them. If Henry was the killer, and Anthony knew it, he didn't seem to like it at least.

"So?" Anthony asked again. "I think the more people working on this, the better. Maybe you have some insight the cops don't. You clearly knew about that bonfire. We didn't... You're obviously talking to the right people and figuring different things out than we are. So I'd appreciate your input, personally. It can't hurt... I understand why Dwight won't talk... This stuff is all confidential... but at this point, people are dropping like flies. I'm willing to talk to anyone who might be able to help."

Gale glanced toward Stanley, who shrugged. She looked back toward Scott and his camera man, who both stared at her with raised eyebrows. She wondered if Scott really did think she was sleeping with cops for information or if he was just being an ass... She couldn't honestly claim she didn't look suspicious right now... But she didn't care.

She smiled back and Anthony and nodded. "Okay." She agreed. He was right. It couldn't hurt. They could go to a public place, she could milk some information from him, and be on her way. She was lucky cops seemed easily charmed by her. That made her job so much easier.

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	9. Chapter 9

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Chapter 9

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"So the first victims, Skylar and Tyson - upon investigation, it looks like Tyson was killed first. Stabbed in the stomach up in his room. He bled out there for at least a full minute. Probably died there. That's where most of his blood was. Then the killer threw him through the window and went back downstairs to attack the girl. She fought back more, but was overpowered." Anthony explained as he and Gale sipped their coffees in the corner of the Woodsboro Coffee House.

"Do you have suspects?" Gale asked. "Surely someone stands out..."

Anthony shook his head. "Nothing I can share... Do you have suspects?"

Gale narrowed her eyes. She had come into this meeting hoping he could help her... was he thinking the same of her? Her only suspect was Henry Skinner - who happened to be Anthony's younger brother... and she didn't have that much dirt on him - only rumors. She shook her head. "Nothing I can share."

Anthony smirked. "Fair enough..."

"I notice the first three victims, as well as Danny, who was a clear target last night, are members of the same social group from the high school... Cody doesn't fit in with that." Gale noted.

"True..." Anthony frowned.

"I've got a theory that perhaps someone he interviewed earlier today could be involved. Do you think that's possible? Someone from the party? Maybe he thought they were just a witness, said something more than he should have... Scared them..." Gale suggested.

Anthony narrowed his eyes and looked like he was thinking back to earlier in the day. "He interviewed Danny Adams - the boy who almost got killed in the barn... and Gary Jones - he was Tyson's best friend... and, uh... Kira Sung. She's friends with Tyson's sister Redonna. I interviewed her though. They're both just fourteen. I couldn't see them being involved."

"Well, unless Danny had his accomplice stab him, I don't think he's involved either." Gale frowned.

"That would be a good place to get stabbed if you want to be ruled out while still not facing too much real danger." Anthony noted. "And Gary... He seemed normal... but who knows anymore?"

"Did you or Dewey get a good look at the killer?" Gale asked the obvious question, with a partially obvious answer - no, they didn't get too good a look, or they'd know who it was...

Anthony swallowed and nodded. "Same story as before. The ghost mask. Dark robe..."

Gale nodded and exhaled. She expected that answer. "Were there any calls made from the killer? Did he say anything? Could you guess at height and body-type? Tall, short, thin, heavy?" She realized she was asking Anthony the same frustrating questions Dewey had asked her just this morning, but she didn't know where else to go for answers.

Anthony shook his head and shrugged. "It happened so fast. I don't think he said anything. There were no calls - not that we've discovered yet. I think he was tall - tall enough that we're suspecting a man, but I guess there are tall women in Woodsboro. It could be anyone. We don't have many leads."

"Do you think this is at all related to the other murders? I mean, is there any indication that this killer aims to finish what the others started? Any reference to Sidney or anyone else involved before? Should we be contacting her or the others? Letting them know they might be in danger?" Gale wondered.

"You were involved before, Gale." Anthony noted.

"Should I be worried?" Gale wondered.

Anthony shrugged. "I can't tell yet. So far the murders seem fairly random. The connection seemed to be there at first, but now I'm not so sure. It's possible this is just some random kid - or adult... who just wants to gain the fame Billy, Stu, and Xavier claimed. Maybe it's not personal at all - maybe they aren't even from Woodsboro. It could be a random guy none of us have ever even met."

"Why attack a cop though? And at the police station of all places... That seems needlessly dangerous." Gale noted. "Did Cody have enemies? Was he getting too close to answers? Did Danny or Gary or even Kira seem angry or nervous after talking to him?"

Anthony grimaced. "I don't think so, Gale... He wasn't exactly the best at his job... I doubt even if he spoke directly to the killer that he'd have even known it. I mean, he was a sweet kid. He was funny and caring and did his best... but I doubt he had any leads the rest of us didn't know about. Maybe you're right though. Maybe Danny or Gary are involved and talking to the cops scared them."

"But he may have been onto something. I guess we can't really know now, but he could have. Maybe the killer knew he was onto something. I can't think of any other reason to target a cop - at the police station... with two other armed cops working there. It's just not smart... Unless it was personal. It's got to be one of the two - Cody knew something, or the killer had a grudge against Cody." Gale theorized.

"Could be... I don't think he had enemies though. I can't think of anyone. Everyone loved Cody." Anthony told her.

"Maybe the killer was proving something to someone Cody loved. Someone who loved Cody... Maybe this was for you or Dewey." Gale noted.

Anthony shook his head. "It could be... I don't know..."

Nodding again, Gale thought to herself. It could still potentially be Henry at fault here. Maybe Anthony challenged him privately, asked him to stop killing people, threatened to stop him himself... Maybe killing his friend Cody was Henry's way to show Anthony not to mess with him. Or, it could be someone else entirely. Danny and Amy could be orchestrating this entire plot. Amy was clearly frustrated with her life, maybe this was her way of venting. Gale had lost track of her at the bonfire for long enough that she could have slipped away from the fire, gotten dressed in the ghost face costume, and attacked Danny's friend, cut her boyfriend just enough to make him look like a victim without serious harm... She was a relatively tall girl too. Gale felt like the killer was tall, maybe a bit taller than she perceived Amy to be, but maybe dressed in the costume and wielding a knife made her seem taller just because she was so much more threatening.

She supposed she'd just have to ask her own questions to her own suspects. Using Anthony for information was good for now, but she didn't necessarily want to work with him consistently. She couldn't even discuss one of her prime suspects with him. Her discussions with Anthony would have to be limited, and perhaps even just a one-time thing. Investigating on her own wasn't going to be easy or necessarily the safest option, but her only willing investigative partner was also almost a suspect of hers. It just wouldn't work.

She'd learned through talking with some of the high school kids that his brother worked night shifts at the warehouse - she could go there and question him in a public place after this... then maybe think about contacting Amy and Danny again in the morning, figuring out what their alibis for Cody's, Skylar's, and Tyson's murders were and then she could figure out where to go from there.

"Well... I guess we'll have to keep our eyes open. We're gonna figure this out, Anthony. We have to." Gale frowned. "I just hope Dewey doesn't stay mad at me. I'm just doing my job... and he knows I could help him if he let me. I don't know why he's being so stubborn."

"It's his loss, Gale. If he won't work with you, I will. You've offered a lot of interesting theories. The way I see it, as a cop, I need to use every resource I have - and the media is a resource, not a pest. If Dwight can't see that, he's not a good cop." Anthony shrugged.

"He's a good cop." Gale frowned. "He just has trouble finding the balance of when and how much to talk to me about the case. He's worse than ever about it though. I think the sheriff's getting to him."

"Oh... Dana?" Anthony laughed. "She's pretty tough. I think Dwight's scared of her. I don't necessarily blame him."

"Well, I do. She's just a person. What is she gonna do, fire him? You're talking to me. You're obviously not scared. Dewey needs to grow up." Gale crossed her arms over her chest. "He's treating me like he thinks I'm a leech - like I'll just suck the story out of him and go... but I've been investigating too. We could help each other. It's not just a one-way channel."

Anthony nodded. "You could probably be a good cop if you wanted to, Gale."

Gale shrugged. "Reporting and police work are very similar. Cops just keep everything secret. That's the only difference."

Anthony smiled. "I suppose you're right... Thanks for talking with me, Gale. I think this has been beneficial to both of us - and to the case."

"I think so too. I wish Dewey could see that." Gale frowned.

"Maybe in time. He's stressed. Give him time... and if he can't let himself trust you... just remember there are other cops who don't have a problem letting you in." Anthony noted. "Can I give you a ride back to your hotel?"

Gale nodded. She hoped he wasn't getting the wrong idea. She just wanted information and to catch the killer. She was in no way interested in replacing Dewey. There was only room for one cop-romance in her life. And it wasn't this guy.

She somewhat reluctantly climbed into the passenger side of his car and they made their way back toward the hotel. "So, what is it about Dwight that drew you to him in the first place?" Anthony wondered as they drove. "I can't help but to feel confused. Dwight's kind of a dimwit... and you're so beautiful and smart. You could have anyone."

Gale frowned. That was an uncomfortable observation for him to make while they were alone in a dark car together. "Dewey's not a dimwit." Gale frowned. "He can miss the obvious at times, but he's got his moments."

"I guess... I just... He's a nice guy. I don't dislike him. I'm just confused about you two. He always seems pissed at you for how you go about your reporting... but I get why he lets that go - because you're gorgeous. I'm not sure what you see in him though."

"You think that's all he likes about me?" Gale frowned.

Anthony shrugged. "He complains a lot... about everything you do. I'm not sure what else he wants from you. And I'm not saying he's right. I think your reporting is great - you're informing the public... and you're smart and resourceful... That's sexy. Maybe that's what he thinks too - that he hates it, but it's sexy."

Gale grimaced. Maybe she shouldn't have accepted a ride from this guy. He was getting really creepy, really fast.

"I'm just saying, he seems to have a lot of problems with how you conduct yourself. I don't." Anthony noted. "I think your profession and how you go about it are completely valid."

"Oh..." Gale laughed nervously. "Well, thanks..." She swallowed and looked out the windshield. They were almost back to the hotel. This increasingly awkward exchange was almost over. "I guess Dewey and I are kind of opposites. Opposites attract." She shrugged.

"Mm hm..."Anthony nodded. "To an extent, I guess."

Gale fought the urge to audibly exhale with relief as she saw the light of the motel's sign up ahead.

Anthony pulled up into the parking space in front of Gale's hotel room. Gale opened the car door and jumped out just as soon as they were parked, not wanting to risk the possibility that the cop would want to linger and talk more. She'd gotten what she needed from him.

"Thanks, Andy." She called to him with a quick smile.

"Anthony." He corrected with a frown.

"That's what I said. Thanks again." She offered a tight smile and closed the car's door.

She made her way up to Stanley's hotel room and knocked on the door, hoping to get a response right away. Dwight's cop-partner was making her uncomfortable, and she didn't want the man thinking she was alone here. Maybe she was over-reacting, but she knew she'd certainly feel safer once Stanley answered - once Anthony knew she wasn't by herself.

He looked tired when he answered. "Yeah? What's up, Gale? Was someone else killed? It's like ten o'clock..."

"It's not even nine thirty. I need a ride to the warehouse where Henry Skinner works." Gale told him, glancing over her shoulder at Anthony's cop car. He was still sitting there - hopefully just making sure no one killed Gale before she made it into her room. His headlights were too bright. She couldn't see his face.

"Why didn't you have the cop drive you?" Stanley muttered as he shuffled his feet back into his room. Gale followed him, closing the door behind her and exhaling a relieved breath when she noticed Anthony's headlights backing away from the window.

"He was starting to get weird. I don't think that meeting was only about sharing information." She shuddered. "I'm also wanting to talk to his brother. He's my main suspect. I couldn't exactly tell him that."

Stanley exhaled as he shrugged into a t-shirt and pulled jeans up over his boxer shorts. Gale hadn't even noticed he was just wearing shorts and an undershirt when he opened the door. He didn't seem embarrassed by it, so she didn't give it a second thought either.

"Alright. I hope this is quick. I'd like to go to bed before midnight." Stanley grumbled.

"I'll be quick." Gale promised.

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	10. Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

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Stanley yawned as he drove the Top Story news van toward Rick's Farm Supply - where Anthony's brother Henry was supposed to be working the night shift. If Gale had timed this right, he should have just arrived at work within the hour - which meant he could still be the killer - work as an alibi wouldn't cut it this time. He could have easily still made it to work on time after killing Cody.

"You sure we should be questioning this guy on our own, Gale?" Stanley frowned as he pulled into the lot of the warehouse. "If he's a violent murderer, who's already killed three people - already attacked you once..."

"It's fine, Stanley. This place is public. There are other cars in the lot. Other people working." Gale explained.

"But there aren't other buildings very close... and it's a big building. Even with other people present, there are probably pretty secluded spaces in there." Stanley went on.

"A lot of these warehouses have cameras inside - to prevent employees from stealing. He wouldn't kill someone at work." Gale guessed. That would surely push him to the top of everyone's suspect lists. Surely half the town suspected him just because of the very well-known rape allegation against him.

"Do you want me to come with you this time?" Stanley asked.

Gale shook her head. "Just drop me off by the door. I don't know this kid well enough to request an interview, and for some reason certain people find me disarming. That's how I won Dewey over at least... and seemingly the other cop... unintentionally."

Stanley pulled up near the front door and put the van into park. "Well... Good luck, I guess." He shrugged.

"Thanks. Stay in the area." Gale suggested. "I'll call you when I'm done. Shouldn't be too long."

Stanley nodded and yawned. "I'm gonna go get coffee. Do you want one?"

Gale shook her head. She'd just had coffee with creep-cop.

"Kay. See ya." Stanley pulled away and Gale made her way up to the warehouse's entrance.

She rang a buzzer by the door, hoping she'd even be let in. She supposed she should have thought about that before letting Stanley drive off. Usually people let her in. She was good at being charming when she needed to be. Even so, she was also locally famous, and not all people liked her for it.

"Yes?" A voice came over a speaker by the door.

Gale leaned toward it and spoke. "I'm looking for Henry Skinner. I was told he was working tonight?"

"Who is this?" The woman's voice asked.

"Gale Weathers." She reluctantly answered. Stating her name usually had a very strong affect - she just never knew in which direction. It would either be an easy way in, or a firm no.

She exhaled as the door buzzed and unlocked. Gale made her way inside and asked a woman at the desk where to go next. She was directed toward a large room full of crates and shelves of farm supplies. Two young men were working, one was on a fork lift, and the other held a clipboard.

The man with the clipboard looked up at her. He resembled Anthony, so she assumed this one was Henry, Anthony's brother.

"Hi." She walked toward him with her hand extended. "I'm Gale Weathers. I work on the show Top Story... I don't know if you've seen it, but I put a lot of emphasis on telling all sides of any story, giving everyone a fair chance and getting answers and justice in the process. I wanted to talk to you. I was given your name by someone at the school-"

Henry exhaled and closed his eyes. "Of course you were."

"I just want your side of the story." Gale told him. "Have you heard of my work to free accused killer Cotton Weary? As you know, I'm not one to jump to conclusions or falsely accuse someone without evidence. Your name came up. I've heard the rumors... Now I want your side."

Henry looked over at the man on the forklift as he parked the machine and walked over. "Gale, this is Allen. My friend. He was there that night too. He can back me up."

"Hi." Gale shook his hand. She wasn't sure how reliable a witness this boy would be - he was biased toward the suspect... but of course she wasn't going to join in on the bias against him either. He deserved to have his side of the rumor told. Gale couldn't lie to herself and claim she hadn't already fallen into a bias against this young man, but she did know he deserved a chance to prove himself innocent if he truly was. It seemed unlikely, but still possible. She had to give him that chance. It was only fair.

"Are we talking about Amy?" Allen frowned.

"Yes." Gale forced a tight smile. "I need each of your versions of this whole thing. It's strictly off the record unless you request otherwise."

Henry nodded and exhaled tiredly. "I've told this story to the cops so many times... It was a party a couple weeks ago. People were drinking. This girl Amy - I barely even knew her - she was there, drinking like everyone else. I was there with my girlfriend Emily - I'm not into other girls... so she's lying... Anyway, Amy was drunk - like really drunk. I helped her into one of the bedrooms to sleep it off. I was trying to be nice. That's all I did. Got her onto the bed and left her there. Then I went home with Emily. And that was the end. The party sucked. That's what I get for going to high school bullshit parties. Emily's still friends with a couple of the senior girls. That's why we went."

"So Amy said you raped her. Where did that come from?" Gale wondered.

"I don't know!" Henry exclaimed. "Maybe someone else did! She didn't go to the cops right away, so if there was any DNA, she screwed up. Now people think I did it, but I didn't! Maybe no one even did. She was so drunk."

Gale frowned. "I think she would know if someone raped her. That's not something a girl is unsure on. Maybe it wasn't you, but someone must have."

"Have you talked to her? Maybe she's just lying. She's been jealous ever since I started dating Emily. The two of them were kinda friends last year. Not anymore." Henry grumbled. "I wouldn't be surprised if no one raped her. She had a crush on me. I didn't respond how she wanted... She cries rape. That's that."

Gale nodded, scrutinizing the young man. She wasn't sure what to believe... Maybe the girl really was jealous and crazy... but in her experience, false rape allegations, though not unheard of, were rare. If Henry didn't rape Amy, someone probably did. Maybe she really had been too drunk to tell who it was. She certainly hadn't mentioned being drunk when Gale talked to her... but maybe that was part of the reason the cops didn't seem to fully believe her - because she had been drinking. Maybe she suspected Gale wouldn't believe her either if she mentioned that detail.

"Henry was with me most of the night. When he wasn't making out with Emily, that is." Allen offered. "That's probably what started this whole thing. Amy saw him with Emily and got jealous."

Gale shook her head. "False rape allegations are very rare."

"I don't know what happened after I left her in that room... You want to know my honest theory?" Henry raised his eyebrows and stared down at her.

"Of course." Gale answered.

"I took her into that room. People saw... She woke up the next day - she could tell that she had had sex with somebody. She freaked out, assumed it was me when people told her they saw me go in there with her... And that's it. Maybe someone else raped her. Maybe she just had sex and regretted it after sobering up. Maybe it was even her boyfriend. Maybe they were both drunk, wouldn't have done it if they weren't drunk. Maybe he remembers and she doesn't so he's letting her believe it wasn't him. Or maybe they both forgot, and I'm the scapegoat. I don't fucking know. All I know is that I had two drinks. I wasn't that drunk. I know I didn't rape anyone. I remember the whole night, and that wasn't part of it." Henry explained.

Gale nodded. Everything he said seemed possible. Amy really could have been raped by someone else, or could have had sex with her own boyfriend without remembering it thanks to the alcohol. Maybe it was possible Amy wasn't intentionally lying, but just didn't fully know what had really happened. Now Gale felt like she'd taken a giant step backward. Henry was still a possible suspect, but didn't seem as sinister now that she'd talked to him.

"One last question - do you know anyone who'd want to hurt Amy's sister Skylar? Or Tyson Parker?" Gale asked.

Both boys shook their heads. "I didn't even know them. They're way too young. I barely know Amy, and she just graduated. I don't know the underclassmen." Henry told her. "Sorry."

"Me neither." Allen shrugged.

"What about Dalton Miller or Danny Adams?" Gale went on.

They shook their heads again. "Besides Amy accusing Henry of all this, the high school doesn't seem that hostile. She's the only one with a problem here. Henry stays away from them as best as he can." Allen explained.

"What about the cops? Do either of you know any of them well, or know anybody who has anything against any of them?" Gale went on, not wanting to outright ask about Cody by name, but leading toward a possible spill from either suspect. She hadn't broadcast her news story yet and no one else should know Cody was dead. That information was not yet public.

"Well, Anthony Skinner is my brother, so I know some of the cops just by going in to talk to him and seeing them there. When your brother's a cop, you get to know the other cops a little, but I don't know of anyone who hates cops or anything. Why?" Henry frowned.

"No reason." Gale responded.

"Well... I hope you figure this out soon, because people look at me like they think I'm the one doing this." Henry crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. "It was bad enough when Amy was spreading all those lies about me... Now this? This town's cursed, and it's ruining my life."

"I'll do what I can... Thanks for your time." Gale offered a tight smile and made her way out the front door. She didn't know what to think. It wasn't like this kid was going to confess his crimes to her - she never expected that he would... but whose story was she supposed to believe? She felt barely any closer to solving this than she when she'd started.

She waked outside and sat down on a bench under a street lamp. She'd have to go back to her hotel and think this over. There were still so many lose ends, but she needed to tie them up fast, before someone else died.

Gale pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and dialed her camera man's number. "Stanley, I'm done. Come pick me up." Gale spoke into the phone as soon as he answered, before he even had time to say anything.

"Give me ten or fifteen minutes?" Stanley said back.

Gale sighed. Where had he gone to get coffee? The next town over? "For future reference, when you're my ride, stay in the area. I told you this wouldn't take long. It's already dark out. Do you want me to get murdered?" Gale grumbled.

"Of course not, Gale. I'll try to hurry." Her camera man did sound empathetic. "I can stay on the phone with you while I drive if it'll make you feel better." He offered.

Gale shook her head. "No. I'll be fine. Just don't take your time. I could seriously be killed. Not even being sarcastic here. I may have just interviewed the fucking killer, Stanley."

"Really?" Stanley had a frown in his voice.

"I'll tell you about it when you get here. Hurry." Gale hung up and searched her phone's memory for Randy's number. Hopefully he hadn't changed it or blocked her number on his phone. She hit send and waited.

"Gale?" Randy's voice sounded legitimately shocked when he answered the call. He must have kept her number saved on his phone to know it was her right away.

Gale laughed. "Hi, Randy. How are you?"

There was a small pause, likely Randy jumping to conclusions in his head."What's going on, Gale? What do you want? Trying to rope me into another serial killer's net? No, thanks. It's a miracle I survived the first time, let alone the second. Characters like me are just begging to be killed."

Gale rolled her eyes. "For the last time, Randy. This is real life. We're not in a movie. You're not a character... But no, I'm not trying to rope you back in. Stay where you are. Don't get yourself involved... I just had a question for you."

"Yeah?" Randy wondered. "About what? Needing some expertise on the mind of a horror movie killer?" His voice sounded strangely pleased.

"It's not a horror movie, Randy!" Gale could barely believe this kid. He always approached these crimes as though it was a movie... but it wasn't. "This is real life. These murderers aren't playing to an audience."

"They kind of are." Randy disagreed. "There are quieter, less-elaborate ways to kill people. They're sending a message - whether they want fame or to prove a point, they want someone out there to notice."

"Fair enough... I wanted to talk to you about Emily." Gale cut to the point. "Your cousin. Emily Meeks?"

"Yeah..." Randy's voice sounded uneasy. "She okay?"

"Yeah... Yes, she's fine." Gale shook her head. She hadn't meant to scare him. "Are you close with her?"

There was another long pause. "Is she a suspect or something?" She could hear in his voice that he was frowning.

"No... I mean, I don't think so. I'm just a reporter, remember? Dewey's mad at me. He's not communicating much to me, so I'm doing my own investigation. Do you know Emily's boyfriend at all?" Gale asked.

"Henry? Is he a suspect?" Randy wondered. "I mean, a suspect to you? Not an official police suspect... Do you suspect him?"

"Maybe..." Gale frowned. "Kids at the high school are talking... Rumor has it Henry is a rapist. People say he raped the sister of the murdered girl, Skylar. Then the same girl who claims she was raped by him - her boyfriend and his friend were attacked, and now one of the cops... He's got motive - both if he'd guilty of rape or not. If he isn't guilty, this girl is ruining his life by claiming he raped her. If he is guilty - same thing, only deserved. Doesn't mean he'd like everyone hearing what he did."

"Why am I hearing this directly from you and not on your news report? I always figured I'd even hear of my own death from you on television before I ever even knew I died. What's the deal?" Randy asked.

"I don't want to ruin this kid's life if he didn't really do it. I worked so hard to clear Cotton's name... I don't want to make the same mistake Sidney did." Gale told him. "I want to be sure before I drag this guy's name through the mud."

"Well, I don't think I can help you, Gale." Randy told her. "I could only guess... I don't really know Henry. He graduated a couple years before me. And Emily and I aren't that close either, really. I could see it being true, but I also don't know enough to say it definitely is. You should talk to Dewey. I'll bet he's working on his own suspect list. You could probably come together and solve this right now if you'd just talk to each other. Don't let your pride get in the way. I guarantee he's dying to talk to you."

Gale nodded and almost felt like she had tears in her eyes. She really wanted to talk to Dewey too. She exhaled, but wasn't sure what else to say.

"Just call him, Gale. It can't hurt. If you want to catch the killer, you've got to work with the other guy trying to catch him. Put your puzzle pieces with his. You never know. You might have a full puzzle if you put 'em all together."

"I've tried talking to him. He's being stubborn." Gale frowned.

"No offense... but are you your usual self when you try to talk to him? Have you tried approaching him in a more gentle way than usual?" Randy suggested.

Gale scoffed and rolled her eyes. "He's a grown man. I shouldn't have to treat him like a child to get him to cooperate."

"Just try. Be nice, promise not to spill it all on the news... but mostly, be nice." Randy laughed slightly.

"Okay. Thanks, Randy." Gale said. "I'll talk to you later."

"See ya, Gale. Be careful out there." Randy told her and hung up.

Gale held her phone in her hands and stared down at it. She kind of wanted to continue waiting on Dewey to reach out first. Why should she be the one to cave and come crawling back to him? But then, they were both wasting time being stubborn. More people could die while she and Dewey refused to help each other solve this.

She licked her lips and stared at her phone's screen, finally going to her contacts and deciding to just swallow her pride and call him. As she scrolled down toward Dewey's name, she heard something behind her. It sounded like a twig snapping. The bench she sat on was next to a row of bushes. There was no sidewalk or parking lot behind it. There was no reason for anyone to be back there...

As she started to turn toward the noise, she felt a large hand grip her arm from behind. She gasped, but had no time to stand before she felt a small but sharp pain in her other arm. She looked down only to see a gloved hand holding a syringe that had just been injected into her skin.

Gale whimpered and stood from the bench. Her attacker was no longer holding onto her, but whatever he'd just injected her with was taking effect fast. She stumbled forward, tripping and falling onto the sidewalk, scraping her palms and knees in the process.

As Gale tried to crawl away, she felt the large hands grab her from behind again. "No..." She gasped, hearing her own voice was weak and almost slurred. Her vision was growing foggy and her eyelids felt heavy. Had the killer drugged any of his other victims? Maybe if she'd talked to Dewey and had approached him with more care, she'd know the answer to that...

Gale's eyes closed and she knew no more.

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	11. Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

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When Gale awoke, she was happy to find she was still alive, and seemingly unharmed... though she couldn't say she wasn't entirely terrified. Her mouth felt dry, her head felt foggy and confused, and she had no idea where she was.

Gale swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked back panicked tears as she became more and more aware of herself. Her hands were bound behind her, very tightly. In fact, her fingers were nearly numb. Her ankles were tied down as well - to legs of the heavy wooden chair she was securely fastened to by rope wrapped tightly around her waist.

With a shaking inhale, Gale shifted her wrists and ankles as best as she could, which was practically not at all. As far as she knew, no other victims of this killer had been treated like this. They were just killed... not toyed with or held captive. Did that mean this was something personal, someone who wanted to hurt her more than the others? Someone she had upset in some way? That would certainly be a long list of suspects. A lot of people didn't like Gale...

She looked around herself. It was fairly dark and actually cold down here - which was surprising considering it was summer, and she had felt sickly sweaty outside waiting on Stanley. She could make out tacky floral wallpaper in the shadows and a small window very high up the wall. It seemed like she was possibly in a basement, though whose, she couldn't tell. Where was she?

Gale's breath caught in her throat and she stared up as a door at the top of a set of wooden stairs creaked open. A tall, dark silhouette filled the doorway, blocking out a lot of the light that filled the room behind him. She noticed the person at the top of the stairs wore the usual dark robe and ghost-face mask the other Woodsboro killers had worn.

Gale shrunk down and felt panic rising in her chest. She struggled further with the binds around her limbs. If this guy wanted to hurt or kill her right now, there wasn't much she was going to be able to do about it, and that terrified her. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?" She spoke in a small, shaking voice as she tugged uselessly at her wrists and ankles.

The stranger did not respond. Instead, he took a slow step forward, only making his way down one of the several stairs separating her from him.

"Henry, if that's you... I believe you... I-" She hesitated, trying to find whatever words might appeal to the young man. "I talked to Amy last night, and she did seem crazy, or bitter... maybe jealous, like you said?" Gale could hear her own voice was still soft and almost slurred. Whatever drug he'd injected her with hadn't worn off yet.

The masked figure still said nothing back, but took another slow step toward her.

"I... I'm sorry... If I did something to upset you... I don't know what it was. I can do something to make it right, whatever it is..." Gale rambled. He took another step down. She tried to shrink back. He took another step, closing the gap between them.

"What do you want!?" She all but screamed, quickly getting tired of her kidnapper's silence. Maybe it wasn't even Henry. It would hardly make sense... She felt like her interview with him had been pretty civil. She was open-minded, even wondered if he was innocent. Maybe he hadn't read it that way.

The masked stranger tilted his head to the side and moved a previously hidden hand into view. When she noticed he held a small video camera, her heart sunk. Dozens of thoughts ran through her head. This was someone who hated her - someone she'd interviewed who didn't like how they were portrayed. A cop whose space she'd infringed upon too far... a stranger she was rude to at a store... Even a viewer of her show - someone who thought she was too cold and ruthless. It could be anyone... and now they were proving a point, turning the camera on her... Maybe he'd kill her and film it. Kill her slowly, maybe even torture her for days. Film it all. Send it in to news outlets. Make her suffering into a news report - do what she did to the world right back to her.

Gale shook her head. "Please..." She whispered.

The killer still didn't say anything back. He held the camera in one hand as he knelt down in front of her. He was still recording her, but she couldn't care about what she looked like. She didn't care that her hair was hanging over her eyes or that she was trembling from the chill air mixed with complete terror.

She gasped and tried to lean away as the man kneeling in front of her reached a hand up toward her face. She inhaled shaking breaths as he simply held his hand there against her cheek. She felt like she could pass out from fear. Her breaths were so shallow and she felt more and more lightheaded with each passing second.

The panic in her chest only rose as he ran his gloved hand down toward her neck, letting it rest on her throat for a moment. Was he going to strangle her? "Please don't... Please don't kill me..." She rambled as she bit her lower lip and sniffed back tears. She didn't know what do. She'd been attacked by murderers before, unfortunately, but never like this. Never this slow, intimate, uncertain type of situation. In the past, she always had room to fight back in some way or another. This time she was entirely at his mercy, with absolutely no possible way out. Was he going to kill her? Was he just toying with her? Was she bait for someone else? Was he keeping her alive in order to lure someone else into a trap? Dewey?

She felt her lower lip trembling as tears filled her eyes. That was the last thing on earth she wanted - for the killer to use her to hurt Dewey. She'd rather die than be used to get him killed.

"If you're going to do it, just do it!" She spoke in a more angry voice. "I'm not interested in games. Kill me or don't. Just make a decision and do it!" She felt cold fear in her chest as her heart pounded impossibly fast. She still felt lightheaded.

She held her breath as he ran his hand the rest of the way down her neck. She stared up at his camera, which he still pointed down at her as he moved his hand down to her chest, placing his palm over her heart. She wondered if he was trying to judge how scared she was. It seemed like he was feeling her heartbeat.

Gale squeezed her eyes shut and tried to shrink down again when he moved his hand further down, groping her breast, first gently, and then in a more rough, squeezing gesture. She gritted her teeth, certain that no amount of begging was going to make this stop. He hadn't listened to her so far. Why would he now?

"Stop." She whispered in the most demanding, fearless tone she could manage, still keeping her eyes closed tightly as she pulled uselessly at her wrists. She could feel the harsh ropes biting into her skin.

He didn't stop. She knew he wouldn't. Instead, he continued squeezing at her skin with an increasingly rough hand, leaning in close enough that she could feel the material hanging off the side of his mask tickling the skin of her chest. He inhaled a deep breath, and almost seemed to be smelling her.

With a small growl in her throat, Gale did the only thing she could think to do. She slammed her own head forward, hitting him hard enough that he stumbled back. She knew it wouldn't stop him forever, but she couldn't bear to do nothing. Not with him touching her like this.

She heard a sort of grumble from him before he regained his bearings and moved back toward her with more ferocity. He grabbed a fist-full of her hair and tugged so that she was forced to look up. She whimpered in pain. He let go, but quickly punched her in the ribs so that she doubled over as best as the restraints allowed.

Gale coughed out a pained breath and bit back tears as he put his hand around her throat and forced her to lean back again. He squeezed his hand, still holding his camera with the other. Gale struggled to breathe, trying desperately to pull her bound hands free. Maybe this was just a threat, or an attempt at revenge for her hurting him a moment before, but he was squeezing too hard. She couldn't breathe. She tried to shake her head or lean back or do anything to help herself, but couldn't budge. His one hand was too strong, and she had absolutely no way to fight back.

She felt tears spilling down her cheeks and she tried to choke out a plea. She could say nothing. She felt her vision growing cloudy, and almost felt relief. At least it was almost over. At least she couldn't be used as bait anymore.

Just when she was about to give up on staying conscious, her attacker eased up, releasing his grip and finally turning off his camera and setting it to the side.

As Gale inhaled painful gulps of air, she felt his hands on her, one on her back and the other near her collarbone.

Finally he spoke, but his voice sounded somehow masked, just like the voice changers the other killers had used, just like she'd heard back at the barn when the killer attacked the high school boys. "Don't fuck with me, Gale." The gravely voice threatened, producing a knife and holding it up against her chest. "This could get a whole lot worse."

As if to demonstrate that possibility, he moved his other hand down to her leg, resting it on her scraped up knee and gripping his fingers around her leg. Gale looked down at herself. It was summertime, so she was only wearing a somewhat short pencil skirt and a sleeveless top. She'd had a blazer on this morning, but removed it earlier in the day. It was so humid today. She was regretting her outfit choice now though. The killer seemed to have a twisted desire to grope all over her body. Whether it was some sick attraction or just his way of trying to scare her didn't really matter. What did matter was that she had a lot of skin exposed and really no way to defend herself from his sneaking hands.

As he began pushing his hand up her leg, under her skirt, Gale couldn't help but to choke out a sob. She tried to pull her legs closer together and tugged at her bound wrists and ankles, but couldn't really budge. "Stop!" Gale pleaded as she flinched away what tiny distance she could.

The killer's voice was still disguised in a way that made this even more terrifying than it already was. She heard him laughing as he pushed his hand further up her leg, rubbing his thumb carefully over the inside of her thigh.

"Don't touch me!" Gale demanded.

"Aww, you don't want me to touch you?" The killer mocked, placing his knife on the floor and moving his second hand onto her breast. He gripped her shirt and pulled at it until he forced a couple buttons to pop open. He laughed when Gale flinched away and choked out a soft sob. Gale squeezed her eyes shut as her attacker pushed his gloved hand down the front of her shirt.

"Don't! Stop! Please... Don't do this..." She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut tighter. She had never felt so weak and helpless in her entire life.

"I won't." The killer told her. "As long as you cooperate." He kept his one hand where it was, mid-way up her thigh, under her skirt, but moved the other out of her shirt and placed it carefully against the side of her face. "Don't fight with me, Babydoll and it won't get any worse than this. Understand?"

Gale swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded as her tears continued to fall.

"Good girl." The killer finally moved his hand off of her, stood up, patted her on top of her head, and turned away. He made his way back up the stairs and closed the door, leaving Gale alone in the dark with nothing but her thoughts and fears.

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	12. Chapter 12

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Chapter 12

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"Randy, it's Dewey." Dewey spoke into the phone as soon as the younger man answered.

"Uh, hey, man. It's pretty late." Randy yawned.

"I know." Dewey frowned. "Sorry. This couldn't wait."

"Are we finally acknowledging my crime-solving skills?" Dewey heard a hint of a smirk in Randy's voice . "Gale just called me a couple hours ago."

"That's why I'm calling." Dewey exhaled. "Gale's missing. I think you were the last person to talk to her."

"Really?" Dewey heard the disappointment and worry in Randy's voice now. "How long has she been gone? Are there signs of a struggle anywhere? Any blood? Any kind of message from a potential abductor?"

Dewey shook his head. "The only sign was her phone lying on the ground by a bench. Her camera man said he got a call from her asking for him to come pick her up. He said when he got there ten or twelve minutes later, she was gone. She called you between talking to Stanley on the phone and Stanley arriving on the scene."

"I see..." Randy paused. "Are you sure the camera man didn't do something?"

Dewey exhaled. "I guess I'm not totally sure... I don't think it was him... but no. I'm not a hundred percent sure. Why did she call you? Did she seem nervous or scared? Say anything weird? Did you hear anything odd in the background? Did the conversation end normally?"

"She was asking about my cousin Emily and her boyfriend Henry." Randy told him. "I guess she talked to Henry and was suspicious of him. Kids at the high school said he raped someone - the sister of the first victim, Skylar."

Dewey felt his heart skip a beat. He'd been suspicious of Henry too, and he knew full well that Gale had suspected him. Of course he'd assumed Gale had talked to Henry when she went missing from right outside his place of employment, but now that Randy was bringing him up too, Dewey felt even more panicked about the fact that he'd been one of the last people Gale spoke to before vanishing. The kids at school seemed split on loving or hating him - but Dewey had honestly figured the alleged rape was an entirely different case. Why kill Skylar instead of Amy if Henry was the killer? He'd kill the girl ruining his reputation - the one who might take him to court... not a completely different girl.

"I told her she should talk to you. She seemed like she wanted to... but I guess she didn't get a chance. Should I come to Woodsboro? Maybe I can help..." Randy suggested.

"No." Dewey shook his head. "Don't do that... You'll just get yourself killed."

"How long after I hung up with her did the camera guy show up? How long before she was reported missing?" Randy asked.

Dewey closed his eyes and exhaled. "The call ended at 9:53pm. Stanley called 911 at 10:15, but he said he looked around the area and tried to call her first. Said it probably took him five minutes to call, and then her heard her phone ringing and found it on the ground. So she was gone by 10:00... according to him."

"And you questioned the camera man?" Randy asked.

"Randy, you were talking to Gale until 9:53. Stanley called 911 at 10:15. He would have had 23 minutes to kidnap her and take her somewhere and then be right back at the scene." Dewey explained.

"That might be long enough..." Randy sounded unsure.

"Maybe... but I don't think so. I talked to him right away. He seemed really shaken." Dewey told him.

"Well, who else are your suspects? Who else did you or the other cops question?" Randy went on. "You've got to have your own off-the-record list of suspects in your head too - unofficial suspects that would ruin friendships if you said it out loud?"

Dewey looked across the office at Anthony. There were lots of times over the past few days that he wasn't accounted for... but then, he was there when the killer attacked Cody... He was there when the killer attacked Danny, Dalton, and Gale. Unless Skylar and Tyson were killed hours before anyone noticed, he was at the office with Dewey when that happened too, but then... Billy and Stu worked as a team. Anthony could be one of two killers. He glanced behind himself at Sheriff Lake's office. The woman seemed to despise Gale... and she always seemed off working on her own. Then there were Henry and Allen at the warehouse. Gale had just talked to them. If they were guilty, that would have scared them - moved their plan along. Or Henry's girlfriend Emily - she could be his accomplice if he was the killer. Or it could be someone he hadn't even spoken to yet. Woodsboro was small, but not that small. There were so many potential suspects, especially as far as Gale was concerned. So many people were offended by the way she was so ruthless on her news broadcast.

"Randy... it could be anyone. I have no real solid leads..." Dewey felt his throat tighten.

"Dewey... I'm sorry. We'll find her. The killer hasn't kidnapped anyone else. This doesn't fit the pattern. He took her for a reason. He's got to be keeping her alive. We're gonna find her." Randy assured him.

"I hope so... I've got to go, Randy. I'm gonna go interview some more people. I've got to find her..." Dewey blinked back tears.

"Call me if you think I can help in any way. I can't think of anything else I can tell you that would help, but if you think of anything, don't hesitate to reach out. Good luck, Dewey." Randy said before Dewey hung up the phone.

"Do you think the camera man is involved?" Anthony wondered from his desk. He was probably listening to Dewey's side of the conversation and heard the camera man mentioned.

"I don't know..." Dewey sighed and shook his head. "I don't think so... They weren't even in town when the first murders happened... as far as I know... According to Gale, he would have had a very small window of time to get here and back to be present to drive with her here as well. His window of time would have been small for kidnapping Gale too. I think I could buy one instance of him making great time, but he's not a superhero. At a certain point, unlikely becomes impossible."

Anthony nodded. "Want me to come with you? You probably shouldn't go alone, especially if you're interviewing legitimate suspects..."

Dewey nodded as he saved and closed some of his documents and prepared to log off of his computer. He'd have to wait and interview Henry when Anthony wasn't with him, but they could get through a lot of his suspects at least. He'd already briefly spoken with Henry back at the warehouse anyway. It seemed like he had been working the whole time and there was video footage of the warehouse floor to prove it. Henry had come in around nine to fill in for a co-worker for the last three hours of his shift. The time stamped video proved it.

As Dewey x-ed out of his last open report, a familiar chime echoed from his computer's speaker. He frowned as he noticed he had a new e-mail.

"Ready?" Anthony asked as he clicked out of some programs on his own computer and shrugged into his gun holster. "I'll drive."

"Hold on." Dewey held a finger up, asking for a moment. He looked at the subject line of the e-mail. 'Gale's Debut.' Dewey swallowed and looked at the message's sender - a long jumble of letters and numbers.

With a trembling lower-lip, he clicked the message open, finding only a single link to a video. He felt his breath catch in his throat. He was terrified of what this video may display... but he had to find out. He couldn't resist. He leaned forward and stared at the computer screen as the video began. It was very dark. Dewey could barely even see. The audio was quiet too.

It looked like whoever was recording the video was making their way down a set of steps, into a basement. It was so dark... but he could see enough. At the bottom of the stairs, tied down to a chair was someone he instantly recognized - Gale. Dewey's breath hitched in his throat as he widened his eyes and leaned down closer to the screen.

In the recording, Gale looked like she was shaking slightly and he could hear her frantic breaths as the person filming her stepped closer. "Please." Gale's frightened voice whispered as she stared with tear-filled eyes at the camera.

"Oh my god!" Dewey gasped, staring at the screen in shock.

"What?" Anthony wondered from across the room, looking over at Dewey with concern and interest. "What's going on?" He frowned upon seeing Dewey's worried expression.

Dewey waved him over. "It's a video... It's Gale!"

Anthony made his way over, leaning over Dewey's desk and viewing the video along with him. "Where did you get this?" He asked with a frown.

Dewey shook his head and stared at the screen. He couldn't focus on anything but the video before him. He couldn't believe this. If Gale wasn't okay, Dewey didn't know what he was going to do. How could he live with himself?

The camera moved closer to the reporter. Gale stared back. She looked angry, but more than that, she looked scared. It made Dewey's heart hurt so much he wasn't sure how to handle it. He shook his head. What if this video ended in Gale's murder? He had no idea where this was going, and was terrified to find out.

Gale's hair hanged over her eyes as she stared at the camera, and then toward something next to it - likely the killer. Dewey wondered if he was still wearing the disguise as he filmed this. Did Gale know who it was now? Was she even still alive?

Gale gasped and flinched back as a gloved hand reached out and rested on her cheek. The killer was being strangely gentle. Gale obviously didn't buy his gentleness any more than Dewey did. Dewey felt tears in his eyes as he could do nothing but watch Gale's panic and fear. He watched as the killer moved his hand down to her throat.

"Please don't. Please don't kill me..." Gale's voice begged. Dewey had never heard her sound so frightened and vulnerable. The killer didn't seem to be ready to strangle her just yet. For a minute, there was no movement on the screen beyond Gale's frantic breaths. It was clear the reporter was losing patience and was growing tired of this game. It didn't take her long to allow her anger crowd out her fear - as she often did.

"If you're going to do it, just do it! I'm not interested in games. Kill me or don't. Just make a decision and do it!" She yelled at the gloved, unseen stranger. Dewey wished he could see what she saw - she could very well know exactly who was doing this.

The killer said nothing, but slowly moved his hand down to her chest, holding it over her heart, which was surely beating a mile a minute. He moved his hand down toward her breast, causing Gale to shrink down what little amount she could and squeeze her eyes shut. "Stop!" She demanded, but kept her eyes shut. She wore a frown and her brows were furrowed with worry, but she was clearly trying to remain stoic.

Then the killer leaned forward. Dewey couldn't see what was happening anymore, as his camera was held off to the side. Maybe he forgot he was filming. Suddenly he heard Gale growl and everything on the camera moved, followed by the sound of someone being hit, and Gale whimpering and then coughing.

Dewey felt his own heart pounding as he watched the camera being lifted off the ground and focused back on Gale. The killer had his hand around her throat, squeezing as she struggled uselessly against him. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she continued with futility to attempt to inhale a meaningful breath.

Dewey found that through viewing this, he was holding his own breath too. Was he watching Gale's murder? How could he ever forgive himself after how he had been treating her? He was so frustrated with the situation. He should have kept her closer. He had no idea she was a target. He should have known. How could he not?

Finally, the killer released his hold around the reporter's throat and Dewey saw that Gale was able to breathe in a few seemingly painful, frantic breaths. And that's where the video ended.

Dewey grimaced and glanced over at Anthony, who frowned back at him. "What do I do, Anthony?" Dewey felt his lower lip trembling. "If she's not okay... if he kills her..."

"He won't... We'll find her." Anthony promised. The phone started ringing across the room. Anthony exhaled and clapped Dewey's shoulder with a sympathetic squeeze and headed toward the desk, picking up the phone. "Skinner." He responded.

Dewey couldn't focus on what his partner was discussing on the phone. He could only think about Gale. If she wasn't dead already, she was at the very least suffering. It killed him to know that. The killer had threatened her, hit her, groped her, started to strangle her. And that was only what he'd seen in the video. She was still missing. The killer could be hurting her more right now.

"God damn it!" Anthony yelled and slammed the phone down across the room, bringing Dewey back to the present. He looked nervously toward his friend. Anthony was quite clearly very upset. "Fuck!" The other cop screamed, picking the phone up again just to slam it violently down.

"What's wrong?" Dewey felt his heart pounding. Surely he wouldn't have responded like that if he'd just received bad news about Gale. He seemed to have a crush on the woman, but that was all it was. This had to have been something else. Dewey certainly hoped so at least.

"My sister... My little sister..." Anthony slammed his fist against the wall, causing Dewey to grimace. That looked like it had to have hurt his hand.

"Abby? Is she okay?" Dewey frowned. Anthony's sister was a high school student. From interviewing the kids at the school, Dewey had found Abby was close friends with Amy - the first murdered girl's sister. Abby had been at the bonfire where Dalton had been killed, but hadn't seen anything.

"No. She's not." Anthony shook his head and paced for a moment.

Dewey stood from his chair. "What happened?" If she was another victim of this killer, the case was probably going to start falling into place pretty fast. There was a clear target group now - the murdered kids were fairly closely connected in the same social circle - plus the seemingly unconnected outliers - Cody and Gale. Their connection to the other targets would surely become clear once the suspect list narrowed.

"She was killed, Dwight! At the Anderson house! She was with Amy Anderson and another friend, Maria. Abby and Maria are dead. Amy escaped and called 911..." Anthony inhaled another deep, shaking breath. He balled his hands into fists and paced back and forth. "I'll fucking kill him!"

Dewey swallowed. "Let's figure this out together, Anthony... Don't do anything crazy... We don't know for sure who did this..."

"I do." Anthony growled.

"You do?" Dewey stared back with wide eyes. "How? Who?"

Anthony shook his head and stormed out the door.

"Anthony, wait!" Dewey rushed after him. Anthony quickly got into his car. Dewey ran around to the other side and jumped in before his partner could speed away. Gale wouldn't ever be found if Anthony killed the only person who knew where she was.

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	13. Chapter 13

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Chapter 13

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"Slow down, Anthony!" Dewey breathed as he held onto the center console and door of the car. Anthony was driving extremely fast, and had even turned his siren on. He still hadn't given Dewey any answers as to who he thought the killer was or why he believed it so strongly. "Where are we going?" Dewey asked for what felt like the hundredth time. Anthony was barely even acknowledging that Dewey was here right now.

Dewey held his breath as Anthony pulled the car up beside a familiar house - the residence shared by Anthony's own brother Henry, his girlfriend Emily Meeks, and their room-mate Allen Manners. Before Dewey could request more information as to how Anthony had jumped to this conclusion, the man had jumped out of the car, slammed the door rather violently, and stormed up to the house's front door.

"Anthony, who is the suspect? Which one do you think did this?" Dewey hissed as he rushed up next to his partner. Each of the three roommates had been on his own radar too, but there was nowhere near enough evidence for him to be sure. Anthony clearly didn't feel the same uncertainty.

Anthony grabbed the door's handle and tried to open it without knocking, but it was locked, so he began pounding his fist violently against the wood. "Henry, let me the fuck in! Now!"

Dewey felt his heart pounding in his chest as he heard feet approaching the door. He put his hand on Anthony's arm, trying to calm the man down. Henry was a suspect to Dewey too - but surely Anthony didn't believe his own brother could kill their sister... Usually accepting a family member could do something like this didn't come easy. Anthony didn't even seem capable of believing his brother might rape someone. How could he be so sure the younger man could murder someone they both loved dearly...

Randy's cousin Emily was the one to answer the door. She looked tired for a half second, but her eyes grew wide and she gasped as Anthony pushed past her and made his way into the house. "What's going on?" She whispered.

"I need to talk to Henry. Now." Anthony growled.

Dewey swallowed as he could mostly only quietly observe and hope for the best.

"Have you been home all night, Emily?" Dewey asked, trying to be helpful and form his own opinion on this.

"Yeah." She whispered, staring with her mouth hanging open in shock as Anthony made his way upstairs toward the bedrooms. "Is Henry in trouble?" She frowned. "Do you think he's involved with the murders? I can't believe that, I won't believe it..." She shook her head.

Dewey grimaced. "That's what we're trying to figure out..." He made his way up the stairs after his partner, but not fast enough, before Anthony made his way into his brother's bedroom and slammed and locked the door behind him.

"Anthony's not going to hurt him, is he?" Emily wondered, staring at the closed door with wide eyes.

"I don't think so..." Dewey answered, but he really wasn't sure. Anthony was clearly upset. "Anthony, let me in!" Dewey called out to the older man. "Maybe I should talk to him..." He suggested.

Anthony seemed to be back to ignoring him. Dewey listened carefully to the heated conversation on the other side of the door. It didn't necessarily sound violent, so he decided not to intervene just yet.

"What did you do, Henry!?" Anthony's voice boomed from the other side of the door.

Whatever Henry said back was too quiet for Dewey to hear. He leaned closer to the door, noticing Emily do the same right next to him.

"Did you kill our fucking sister, Henry?" Anthony screamed. "Are you kidding me? How could you fucking do this!?"

"I didn't!" Henry insisted.

"We both know you did, you sick piece of shit!" Anthony growled.

"He didn't..." Emily whispered, staring up at Dewey with tears in her eyes. "He was working until midnight and then he came home. I remember waking up for a minute when he got here. He came home and went straight to bed. We've been sleeping."

"Did you see the clock when he got here?" Dewey asked. "Do you know exactly when he got home? It's after two... He could have-"

"He wouldn't. Especially not his sister... And Anthony's being unbelievably cruel. We didn't even know Abby was dead." Emily's voice cracked.

Dewey grimaced. That was true. This wasn't public information yet. That was a pretty harsh way to break the news to Henry that his sister had been murdered... by waking him up at two o'clock in the morning and accusing him of killing her. Unless he really did kill her - which was entirely possible.

"So you don't know exactly when he got home?" Dewey asked again.

"I don't make a habit of staring at the clock every time he gets off his late shifts. I didn't know he'd need a fucking alibi. Henry's been through enough, officer... with that girl accusing him of those terrible things... and now his own brother's not even on his side? Did you know Abby even told the sheriff she believed Amy over her own brother?" Emily frowned.

"She did?" Dewey felt his chest grow cold."That sounds like a motive, Emily..."

Emily's shoulders slumped. "It's not. He loved Abby. He felt betrayed by her, but he wouldn't do this."

Dewey reached his hand up toward the door to knock again just as Anthony opened it. He still looked angry, but Henry wasn't cuffed or anything. The younger man simply stood across the room, frowning as he stared at his brother's back. Dewey stared at Anthony, waiting for further explanation.

"He didn't do it..." Anthony spoke, but didn't sound entirely convinced.

"Do all three of them have alibis that check out? For all the crimes?" Dewey whispered under his breath, ignoring the stares from Henry, Emily, and their room-mate, Allen, who had at some point sneaked out of his room and was now staring with curiosity at the scene. "There could still be two killers, Anthony. Even three. Henry could have done some but not all..."

Anthony closed his eyes and exhaled. "I don't know, Dwight... I just don't know... This is exhausting. I don't know."

"Okay..." Dewey nodded, staring at his partner. He looked sort of spaced out. Maybe he wasn't a good person to be interviewing suspects right now. He was clearly not in his right mind. "I'm going to talk to these three... Maybe you should sit down... have some water... or wait in the car."

Anthony seemed to be staring through him as he shook his head, but said nothing.

"We'll get to the bottom of this, okay?" Dewey assured him.

"Yeah... Dwight, I've gotta go... Can you get a ride back to the station with Sheriff Lake or Sam or someone?" Anthony asked as he stared down at Dewey.

Dewey stared back. "Sure... Where are you going?"

"I need to go to the hospital. My mom shouldn't have to ID the body. I need to do this for her." Anthony frowned.

"Isn't she already identified? You told me Abby and Maria were killed..." Dewey reminded him.

"That's based on Amy's word. There hasn't been a family member ID done yet." Anthony explained. "They said on the phone that she was pretty cut up. They'll probably want an ID from a family member, and I really don't want my mom to have to be the one to do it."

"I can go with you." Dewey offered. "So you don't have to be alone..."

"No." Anthony shook his head. "Talk to them... see if you can get any answers. I'll take care of Abby. You take care of Gale. We're gonna sort this out, Dwight. Me and you together. We're gonna get whoever did this. For Abby. And for Gale." He stared into Dewey's eyes with a look more serious than anything Dewey had ever seen in the man.

Dewey wanted to get combative, to remind Anthony that Gale wasn't dead - that they could get justice for Abby, but that Gale was still going to be found alive... but it sounded insensitive in his head, to remind the man that the person he loved was gone while the person Dewey loved could still be okay.

"Okay." Dewey nodded. "We'll meet back up later..."

He watched as Anthony turned and made his way back down the stairs and out the front door. A part of Dewey felt like this was a horrible idea - staying here by himself with three likely murder suspects... but another part of him barely cared. If this would help find Gale sooner, he didn't care if it was dangerous for his sake.

"I didn't kidnap your girlfriend." Henry spoke with a scowl as he crossed his arms across his chest and stared at Dewey from the other side of the room. "And I sure as fuck didn't kill my own sister."

Dewey nodded and glanced back toward Emily and Allen who stood nervously in the hallway. "Can you guys wait down stairs. I want to talk to you one at a time."

"Shouldn't you be doing this at the police station?" Allen frowned.

"I should." Dewey frowned back. "But I'm not going to this time. Usually, yes. But this case isn't usual. If you three just answer my questions, that shouldn't be an issue, right? You've got nothing to hide."

"I guess..." Allen agreed.

Dewey offered a tight smile and walked back into the bedroom with Henry, closing the door behind him. "Why does your brother think you did this?" Dewey asked immediately.

"Because my sister turned on me, and now he's turning on me. The whole world is turning on me." Henry pouted. "Before, I had the support of my family at least. Before long it's just gonna be Emily and Allen. And that's it. You know Abby went to the cops saying she actually believed those stupid rumors? My own sister..."

"Is that why you killed her?" Dewey frowned.

"Don't you fucking dare." Henry growled.

Dewey raised his hands in defense. "I'm sorry... It's an interrogation technique."

"I'm a victim here. My sister betrayed me... but I still love her... and I wouldn't do this." Henry looked genuinely hurt. Dewey couldn't tell if he believed him or not though. It was hard to trust anyone these days.

"You talked to Gale before she was kidnapped..." Dewey noted.

"Yeah. I already discussed this with you like four hours ago, man. I don't have anything else to say. She talked to me - not even for very long. Then she left. I went back to work. Check the security tapes." He answered.

"I know..." Dewey frowned. He'd looked at those tapes already. Henry and Allen were both definitely inside the warehouse working when Gale was taken. They didn't do it - not unless they were working with someone else. That was possible, of course. "If you do have any information, or are involved in any way-"

"I'm not." Henry interrupted. "And my friends aren't. Allen was working with me. Emily was at home asleep. I guess no one was fucking watching her sleep, so she doesn't have an alibi... but she didn't do anything either. You're barking up the wrong tree."

Dewey nodded. He didn't know what to believe anymore. If Allen and Henry were both working while Gale was taken, they couldn't be involved in that part of this at least... but if Henry or Allen were second and/or third killers, who was the first? Emily? Why would she abduct Gale? Why would any of them? Gale would have probably been more sympathetic toward Henry's predicament than anyone. She was all about freeing the falsely accused. She'd probably want to believe Henry was innocent if only to relive the whole Cotton Weary drama/fame...

"I hope you find answers, man. I really do." Henry went on. "But you're not going to find them here."

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	14. Chapter 14

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Chapter 14

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It felt like Gale had been down in the cold dark basement for hours. After her kidnapper had gone back upstairs before, she heard him moving around upstairs for a few minutes and then he left.

He hadn't been back, so Gale had been putting all of her energy into freeing herself. She twisted and pulled at her wrists and ankles as much as she could, trying to best to ignore the pain of the ropes cutting into her skin. The more she wriggled her arms, the greater the pain grew... but she had no other choice.

She could feel sticky blood on her wrists and arms where the ropes had rubbed her skin raw. It stung, but she could feel the ropes slowly loosening. She couldn't stop now.

Gale inhaled a shaking breath as she heard a car door close outside. She began working harder to free herself. This could be the end for her. Maybe he was really going to kill her this time... Or maybe not. Maybe he'd do something else. Either way, she wasn't looking forward to it.

She heard the front door of the house open, and then slam shut, followed by what sounded like small pieces of furniture being thrown or slammed around. She heard no voices though. It wasn't any kind of fight. It was just one person, being destructive for reasons she didn't know.

As she struggled with more and more panic rising in her chest, Gale felt tears springing to her eyes. She was beyond frustrated and even more terrified.

As soon as she heard the basement door creak open, Gale froze. She couldn't help her rapid breaths as she stared up the steps. The killer, in-costume as always, made his way down the steps, pulling a chain to turn on a single light bulb this time.

Gale narrowed her eyes as the sudden burst of light nearly blinded her. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that the killer held a knife.

Trying to shrink back further, Gale continued working on her wrists. The ropes were looser than they had been at first, but still not loose enough.

She held her breath as the killer closed in on her, placing the tip of the knife against her rapidly rising and falling chest.

"You don't have to do this..." Gale breathed. "It's not too late for you to just stop. Walk away..."

"You think the cops'll just stop investigating as long as I leave alone the precious Gale Weathers?" The killer's disguised voice laughed. "You think a lot of yourself, huh? As long as you survive, everything's fine. Fuck everyone else, right?"

Gale bit her lip and glanced down at the knife. "You can't bring them back... but you can stop. No one knows who you are. If you just leave now, you'll get away with it. It'll be over. You can stop killing people, and just go."

"I'm not finished yet." The killer told her. "I'm going to kill everyone you love Gale - anyone you even remotely care about. They better not get too close, or they're gonna die."

Gale shifted her wrists behind her. "Why? What did I do to you? If you're gonna kill me anyway, just tell me..."

"Maybe I'll tell you later, Babydoll." The killer's voice mocked. "We've still got a long way to go." He moved his knife away from her chest, sliding it into his belt. "And unfortunately, I need to make sure your boyfriend knows how fucking serious I am." The killer noted. He produced the same camera as before only placed it on a nearby shelf. He made sure it was pointed at Gale and turned it on.

"Smile for the camera, Gale." He mocked as he walked up to her, placing one hand on her jaw and then punching her in the ribs.

Gale cried out in pain, trying to curl in on herself to shield her stomach. She could barely move... So she continued desperately pulling at her wrists, ignoring more than ever the biting, stinging feeling the ropes digging into her skin created.

She squeezed her eyes shut as the killer raised his fist again, preparing to strike her once more. It came as a shock even to Gale when her wrists suddenly became free. All the struggling had finally paid off, no matter how scuffed up and bruised her wrists were as a result.

Her eyes shot open as she moved her hands in front of herself. Her ankles were still bound to the chair legs, but she could hit the killer back at least.

The killer grabbed at her hands, but she dodged his grip. Unfortunately, she was still very much tied down - with a rope wrapped several times around her waist in addition to the ones around her legs. She didn't have time to work on those. Maybe she should have waited to get her hands free until the killer wasn't here...

"Get away from me!" She screamed as he snatched one of her forearms in a vice-like grip. He squeezed his large hand hard enough to cause Gale to cry out audibly from the pain. She shoved him with her other hand, but he did not budge even an inch. "Let go!" She whimpered as his grip only tightened on her other arm. She reached her other hand up toward the killer's mask, assuming it might be the only thing she could do to make him let go of her other arm.

As she had guessed, her attacker didn't like that. He let go, but only long enough to moved out of her reach, ball his hand into a fist, and punch her across her cheek.

Gale gasped in pain and squeezed her eyes shut as she slumped forward in the chair. She saw spots in front of her eyes and her ribs throbbed. She wasn't entirely sure she wouldn't pass out any minute now.

The killer reached for her arms again, causing a burst of adrenaline to shoot through Gale's body. She had to keep fighting. As she struggled with him, he grabbed her arms. She slid one hand out of his grip and punched him in the stomach, then reached up toward his mask, but he grabbed her arm and wrestled her down so that the chair tipped over backward. She felt her head hit the floor and her vision immediately swam. While she was disoriented, her attacker managed to drag the chair back up and bind her hands behind her again.

Gale let out a panicked whimper as her hands were bound cruelly tight - much tighter than before. She probably wasn't going to have another chance to escape. She'd screwed up and used her only way out too soon. The killer bent down in front of her, grabbing her hair on one hand and putting the other on her knee. "I told you to cooperate, Gale..." He warned, pushing his hand up under her skirt again, just as he had before. "I think I made myself pretty clear."

"No! Please!" She sobbed, pulling uselessly at her already swollen, bruised limbs. "Don't touch me!" Gale screamed.

She heard the killer's disguised voice laughing as he ran his gloved hand up her thigh and moved his other hand onto her throat.

"Get off of me!" Gale screamed. "Heeellp! Help me!" She began calling out. She didn't know what else to do. She didn't think the killer was dumb enough to keep her somewhere where her cries for help could be heard, but if she didn't try to call for help, what else was there she could do?

"Shut up." The killer growled, finally moving his hand off her thigh and hitting her across her face.

Gale felt blood dribbling from her nose, over her lips and down her chin. She felt a few drops hit her chest and roll down into her shirt. She breathed in a shaking breath and shrunk down as much as the ropes allowed. "Please stop..." She felt sobs rising in her throat and tears welling up in her eyes, causing her vision to grow fuzzy. "Let me go..."

"Shut up, Gale..." The killer warned again, reaching both hands toward her legs and pushing her skirt up from her knees to halfway up her thighs.

She shook her head and tried to pull her legs closer together. "Stop!" She cried. He didn't stop. She felt one of his hands inching further and further up the inside of her thigh, so slowly, as though his main intent here wasn't to derive pleasure from touching her as much as it was to make her uncomfortable and scared. "Stop! Let go! Stop!" She screamed, louder and louder.

She heard a growl from her attacker as he grabbed her throat with one hand and leaned in very close. He stared into her eyes as he squeezed his hand around her neck and moved the other precariously up her thigh.

Gale tried to flinch away as she struggled to breathe. She couldn't talk anymore and wasn't sure how far this guy was going to take this. She really didn't have much of a choice in the matter. He was going to do what he wanted, and she was either going to shut up and allow it, or be strangled until she passed out.

For some reason, the killer decided to let go of her neck. Maybe her struggles had died down and he didn't think he had to bother restricting her breathing anymore.

He was wrong. She wasn't going to sit back and silently let this happen. So she began screaming again, very loudly, as loudly as her hoarse, strained voice allowed. She wasn't even saying words anymore, just desperately, breathlessly screaming.

"You've gotta shut the fuck up." The killer growled, shaking his head and finally backing off. Gale breathed in frantic, painful breaths as she watched him pace across the room and grab a roll of duct tape off one of the basement shelves. He pulled off a thick strip of tape and closed in on her.

"No! No, no, no no... please-" She stammered before he slapped the tape over her mouth.

Once she had been forcibly silenced, Gale felt truly trapped. Even her voice was gone. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She was one hundred percent at this man's mercy. She flinched as he put his hand on her side and ran his other hand over the tape covering her mouth.

Gale couldn't help but to break down. She began to sob as much as the tape would allow, quickly finding that doing so made breathing increasingly difficult... but she couldn't stop. Tears rolled down her cheeks as sobs choked up her throat. She breathed short, labored breaths through her nose as she squeezed her eyes shut.

As she continued crying, feeling more weak and pathetic than ever before in her life, Gale noticed the killer's hands were still on her, but almost seemed to be attempting to comfort her. She felt herself shivering as she opened her eyes and looked down at his hands, which were on her arms, gently rubbing up and down.

She felt her lips shaking under the tape, but her sobs were subsiding. She was still scared, but also confused. Did this guy feel some sort of empathy toward her? She didn't know he was capable of such an emotion. She figured only a sociopath could be a serial killer.

"Shhh... It's okay. You're okay. Don't cry, Babydoll... You're right. I was being too harsh. You just make me so mad. I'm sorry I hurt you, okay?" He spoke. His voice was still chilling, disguised... rough and unnatural-sounding. He moved one hand up to her cheek, running his fingertips over what Gale assumed was a bruise, and possibly a scratch from when he'd hit her before.

Gale shook her head and tried to sink through the chair holding her in place. She could only offer a soft, muffled whimper under the tape stifling her voice. She didn't want him to touch her. Not even in a gentle way. She just wanted to go home.

"I know... I know." The killer's voice cooed as he ran his hand through her hair. "I know I'm scaring you. I took it too far. You pissed me off, babe, and I reacted before thinking. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I won't hurt you anymore. Just be patient. This is almost over."

Gale tugged painfully at her arms. Her wrists throbbed where the ropes cut into them. She wouldn't be surprised at this point if she'd sprained or broken one or both while desperately trying to escape this horrifying ordeal. As she struggled, she closed her eyes in frustration, trying to keep her tears from falling. Gale only felt content if she was in complete control, but she absolutely had no control here. None whatsoever. It was maddening.

Her kidnapper petted her hair again and then walked over to the camera, turning it off and looking down at it. He seemed to be watching what he'd just recorded, but the sound wasn't on.

"Gale, Gale, Gale... You look adorable. The camera loves you." He turned the camera around so she could see the screen, but she didn't want to see it. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side. The last thing she wanted was to relive what had just happened.

"I have to say..." He went on, seemingly enjoying the fact that this conversation could be nothing but one-sided. "I'm really digging this new look. The heartless, bitchy reporter stuff is cute. It really is. There's something really hot about a woman you know just doesn't give a fuck. But this is a different kind of sexy - your reaction when someone finally puts you in your place... The tears, the body language... the begging."

Gale frowned under the tape covering her mouth and glared up at him. She couldn't decide if she was more scared or more pissed off.

She flinched back and cried out a small, muffled gasp as the killer balled his hand into a fist and moved quickly and suddenly toward her, acting like he was going to hit her, but stopping himself at the last second.

"You're not as strong as you think you are, Babydoll." He noted. "But that's okay. You might survive this yet - but only because I want you to."

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	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah. I forgot that I wrote a chapter of this from Stanley's point of view... You see, I wrote this story a year and a half ago... It's just taken this long to post it because I wrote a lot of other stories too and don't like publishing six or seven at a time... Anyway, re-reading this, I find I've actually forgotten huge chunks of it... It's like I'm telling my own self a story and don't know what's going to happen next. That's kinda fun...

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CHAPTER 15

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Stanley shook his head silently to himself as he stuffed his clothing into his suitcase. He wasn't sure what to do with himself anymore. He had no attachment to this town or the people in it. He'd just come here for work - and he couldn't exactly work as a news camera man with his reporter missing.

Glancing toward the muted television, Stanley noticed the local news was on. He had muted the sound while trying to fall asleep. Hearing an endless loop of reporters speculating why Gale had been taken and whether she was alive or dead didn't help him sleep. He watched the screen, where the reporter who had harassed Gale earlier was delivering a silent report. He looked smug as he spoke words Stanley couldn't hear and didn't care to. Between several segments of Scott speaking into a hand-held microphone outside of Rick's Farm Supply, a photo of Gale appeared on the screen. It looked to be a screenshot of her from one of the recent news reports Stanley himself had filmed.

As he looked at at the still image of his coworker on the screen, Stanley frowned. In the screenshot, she looked confident and poised, and yet something in her eyes looked nervous. She had probably known deep down all along that she might become a victim in all this. The news report cut back to Scott, who talked some more, first to the camera, and then to two young men Stanley was pretty sure were the two Gale had gone to the warehouse to talk to in the first place. He wondered if Scott was saying anything negative about her while reporting on her kidnapping. He wouldn't doubt it after witnessing how the reporter had spoken to Gale earlier.

Stanley finally switched the channel to a station playing I Love Lucy reruns, but he kept the sound on mute. Somehow the light of the screen made him feel a bit less anxious, but he still wasn't in the mood to actually watch anything.

He stared at the alarm clock next to the motel bed. It was 6:41am. He had tried sleeping, but it just didn't work. He couldn't stop the thoughts running through his head. What was he supposed to do? Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. He could stay in the area, in case the cops wanted to ask more questions. He could launch an investigation of his own - Gale hadn't ever done anything to him, and she had clearly been trying to solve the case. He was pretty sure that she'd come looking for Stanley if he went missing. Perhaps he should do the same for her... But then, trying to solve this on her own led to this moment - she was missing - possibly dead. Maybe Stanley should leave this to the cops, so he didn't become another victim...

Exhaling tiredly, he sat down on the mattress. If he left, he'd look guilty... but the cops didn't ask him to stay. What did they expect? That he'd just live at the motel forever until Gale was found? She was probably dead. Maybe he could just call the cops, ask them if they needed anything else... and if they said no, he could consider his part in this investigation over.

He looked over at the phone next to the alarm clock. Gale wouldn't have left if it was him who was missing... but maybe that would have only been because it was a juicy story. It was hard for him to tell if Gale genuinely cared about anyone... but even if she didn't really care for Stanley, maybe Stanley had accidentally started to care about her - not in a huge, significant way, but enough that he was sure he'd be pretty upset if she were killed. The fact that she was taken and the other victims were killed right away was unsettling too. It was quite possible Gale was being held captive somewhere - maybe being hurt this whole time - it was almost nine hours at this point. Wherever she was, he doubted she was comfortable.

Stanley jumped as the phone started ringing. Maybe that was the police now, wanting to ask him more questions. He couldn't see what else there was to say, but he supposed he could talk to them again.

"Hello?" He spoke into the phone.

"Is this Stanley Donaldson?" The voice on the other end asked. It sounded like a man, but not anyone Stanley recognized.

"Yeah..." Stanley answered. "Who's this?"

"Oh, nobody. Just a concerned citizen with some information that might interest you." The voice answered.

"Uh... I'm not filming the news anymore... Not for now anyway. You should call the station if you-"

"This isn't for the news, Stanley. Do you want your reporter back?" The voice interrupted.

Stanley felt his eyes grow wide as he glanced behind himself toward the window. The curtains were closed, but he still felt like he was being watched. "What?" He gasped in a breathless voice.

"Do you want your reporter back?" The voice spoke more slowly.

"Y-yeah... Is this..." Stanley didn't know how to ask. "Are you..." He stuttered.

"Yes. I took Gale." The voice admitted. "Do you want her back? Or should I..." He trailed off.

"Yes! Yes, I want her back... Is she okay?" Stanley swallowed. He wanted to call the police right now. Could they trace the phone call or something? Did he need to stay on the line for that? He didn't know how it all worked.

"More or less." The stranger laughed. "Not for long though. And if you get the police involved, I'll slit her fucking throat. Is that clear?"

"Yeah." Stanley whispered. "What do I have to do? How do I get you to let her go?"

"You know... when I took Gale, I wondered if anyone would really even miss her. I've sent the cops a video. It's pretty clear where she is, but they haven't come to get her yet." The killer started. "So now I know the cops don't want her... Next logical step would be to contact her family or friends... but while looking into that..." He laughed. "I mean, what friends, right?"

Stanley swallowed a lump in his throat. That was pretty harsh. "I'm Gale's friend. I want her back."

"I'm glad to hear that." The gravely voice went on. "Gale would be too if she were in her right mind. She really needs someone to come and get her. She's so fucking out of it." He laughed.

"What do you mean?" Stanley frowned.

"I mean, Gale has been here long enough. She's a fucking mess, and I'm ready to give her back. I don't want this pathetic little druggie here forever, right?" He laughed. "She's a lot of work."

"Druggie?" Stanley frowned.

"She's clearly on something." The killer's voice was sarcastic. "Can barely keep her eyes open. She might overdose if you leave her here too much longer."

"What are you saying?" Stanley breathed.

"Oh my god..." The killer exhaled a gravely sigh. "Let me spell it out for you, Chief. I've got Gale. I drugged her. I'm gonna drug her more if you don't come rescue her... but she's already pretty fucked up on the first dose - so if you aren't fast enough, she's probably going to die. Understand?"

"Where?" Stanley asked. Was the killer dropping hints somewhere in this conversation? Because if he was, Stanley sure as hell hadn't picked up on them.

"Waters house. It's a farm outside of town. She's in the basement. Remember. No cops. I'm paying attention. If anyone other than yourself shows up - if I get any inkling that you've said shit about this to anyone... I'll cut her pretty little throat down to the fucking bone."

Stanley exhaled as he heard the killer hang up. He supposed he didn't really have a choice here. This felt like an obvious trap - maybe Gale wasn't even alive... but if he didn't go, or told the cops, and Gale was killed because of it, he wouldn't ever be able to forgive himself.

So he grabbed the phone book off of the night stand and looked up the address of the Waters farm. This didn't feel like a good idea, but it felt necessary. Maybe he could save the day, be a hero, finally be on the other side of the camera. He and Gale could write a book together, or at the very least, Gale could dedicate her next book to him. He wondered if she would if he saved him.

He shook his head. It didn't matter. She deserved for him to try to help her either way. Even if she never felt an ounce of gratitude for it, even if she wouldn't have done the same for him - he had to do what he knew was right.

... ... ... ... ... ...

Stanley swallowed nervously as he puled up in front of the farmhouse. He knew he had the right one thanks to the mailbox at the end of the driveway, which read 'Nathan Waters.' Stanley had no idea who Nathan Waters was - Gale hadn't mentioned him in any shape or form. Maybe he was the killer - or maybe a victim of the killer...

Parking the news van, Stanley stepped out and stared up at the house. It was fairly large, but the killer had told him right where Gale was - in the basement. He wondered if he should go straight down there or check the house first - try to sneak up on the killer before the killer could sneak up on him. Maybe the killer really was sick of keeping Gale there though - maybe he just wanted to toy with her and didn't want her dead for whatever reason. Maybe he really did want to let her go. That seemed like too much to hope for, but it was possible.

Cautiously, Stanley made his way around the house, looking for an outside door leading into the basement. If he could get in without going through the house, maybe whatever ambush the killer had planned wouldn't work... but something told him that if this was a trap, the killer already knew he was here.

After circling the house, the camera man was disappointed to find the only way into the basement was going to be the hard way - the scary way - the way that might get him killed... So he made his way toward the house's front door and opened it as slowly and quietly as possible.

As he stepped inside, Stanley looked around the foyer. The house seemed so still and quiet. His heart pounded in his chest. He was so uncertain what this was - what the killer's plan might be. Why tell him where Gale was? Why not involve the police? Surely the killer knew once Gale was out of here, Stanley would go to the police anyway. He swallowed nervously. That meant the killer probably didn't expect Stanley and Gale to actually leave here alive.

His brain told him to turn around and leave, or at the very least to call the police for help... but his heart told him not to leave without Gale, and to keep the police out of it. The killer had threatened to kill her if he suspected the police to be anywhere nearby.

Blinking and exhaling a calming breath, Stanley maneuvered around the house's ground floor until he found stairs leading down. Eerily enough, none of the lights in the house were on except one seemingly down in the basement. The killer had lit the space up probably specifically to help Stanley find his way there faster.

Swallowing nervously, Stanley quietly made his way toward the stairs, stepping down slowly. He had intended to approach this carefully and fully alert of his surroundings, but as soon as he saw Gale, he lost focus on everything else.

Sure enough, she was at the bottom of the stairs, slumped forward on a heavy-looking chair. Her ankles were tied to the chair legs, her hands seemed to be bound behind her, and a third rope was wound around her ribs, further securing her to the chair.

"Oh my god, Gale..." Stanley whispered as he rushed down the stairs and knelt down in front of her. He put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up so he could see her better. Her eyes were closed and a large strip of duct tape was stretched over her mouth. Blood from her nose had run down over the tape, down her chin, and onto her chest.

Stanley's heart sunk further the more he looked her over. She had bruises on her arms and face, her wrists and ankles were scuffed up pretty significantly from the cruelly-tight binds securing her there. Her short skirt was pushed most of the way up her thighs and the top few buttons of her shirt were unclasped, revealing a fair amount of her bra and cleavage.

"Gale..." He whispered, placing his hand on her shoulder and shaking her gently, but firmly. She blinked her eyes slowly open and moaned a soft sound muffled by the tape covering her mouth. "We've gotta get out of here, Gale..." He peeled the tape off of her mouth and started working on untying her ankles. "Do you think you can walk?"

Gale stared at him and blinked slowly as she started to slump forward again.

Stanley exhaled and untied her other ankle and then moved around to free her wrists. He figured he might as well focus on getting her untied first. He could try to get her to walk later - or even carry her out of here himself if he had to.

As he worked on the ropes wound tightly around her wrists, Stanley heard Gale whimper softly and noticed her flinching away from his touch. Deep, vicious-looking rope burn circled her bruised and swollen wrists. It looked very painful, and Gale's response to the irritated skin being handled confirmed that it was.

He untied the rope around her ribs next and then moved to pull her up out of the chair.

"Stanley..." Gale whispered, clinging onto him with a weak grasp.

"Yeah... We're gonna get out of here. Try to walk, but if you can't, I've got you." Stanley told her as he put his arm around her shoulders and back.

She stumbled after him, allowing him to practically drag her up the stairs. "How did-" She breathed a slow breath. "-you..." She almost seemed to be falling asleep as he dragged her up to the ground floor.

"Is he still in the house, Gale? Do you know?" Stanley asked.

"I don't..." She shook her head and breathed out a tired breath before forcing herself to look up again. Gale's eyes were full of dread as she whispered to him in a tiny voice. "Stanley... He's..."

Stanley frowned down at her and followed the direction of her gaze, hissing softly as he saw what she saw: a tall, dark-clad person wearing a creepily familiar ghost-mask. He was blocking the front door - the only exit Stanley how to get to.

For a moment, the three of them held perfectly still. The killer stood in front of the door, silently staring back at them as Stanley and Gale stood in the hallway. Stanley could feel Gale leaning heavily on him. Outrunning this guy wasn't going to be easy considering Gale could barely walk... but they had to try...

So he grabbed Gale's arm, turned, and ran. He had no idea where they were going, what the layout of the house was, or if he was only further cornering them, but the way he saw it, they didn't really have a choice.

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	16. Chapter 16

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Chapter 16

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Gale's chest felt cold and her lungs felt overworked as she held onto her camera man's arm in an effort to keep herself from falling to the floor. She stumbled after him as he dragged her aimlessly through the hallways of the strange house. She was slowly but surely regaining awareness of what was happening around her, but still felt very disoriented and exhausted.

The killer's footsteps could be both heard and felt pounding across the floor boards behind them. Gale bit her lip and rushed after Stanley as best as she could. He was mostly just dragging her along. Her legs felt like jello and the edges of her vision were dark. She could barely keep up.

She whimpered as Stanley pulled her into a bathroom, slammed the door behind them, and locked it. As soon as they were locked in, Gale sunk to the ground and closed her eyes. She felt like she'd just run a marathon.

"Fuck..." She heard Stanley groan as he looked around the room. "I was hoping there'd be a window in here... We're trapped."

Gale looked up at him and leaned her head back against the wall. She was so exhausted. Earlier today, probably more recently than it felt, her kidnapper had come downstairs and injected her with something. He hadn't explained why. Gale assumed he might be planning to transport her somewhere new and wanted to do so without a fight... but then she passed out and woke up still tied down to the same chair, to her camera man attempting to free her. She still wasn't sure why the man was here - how he knew where to find her... Or why on earth he thought it was a good idea to do so alone.

They both flinched as the killer grabbed the door knob and attempted to open the door. It was locked of course, so he only succeeded and violently rattling the knob before either slamming his fist or kicking out at the hard wood of the door.

"We've gotta be ready to fight him, Gale." Stanley breathed. "Do you think you could fight if you needed to?"

Gale closed her eyes and shook her head. She could barely keep her eyes open. "How did you know... where..." She swallowed in mid-sentence and exhaled. Whatever the killer had injected her with made her heart flutter and her mind and body tired.

"The killer called me." Stanley explained. "He said he'd kill you if I didn't come without cops... But we don't have to let him stay in control here. There are two of us. Only one of him."

Gale shrunk down and looked over at him as she heard a crashing sound. At first she thought the killer was breaking in through the wall, but soon found Stanley was breaking a mirror that was hanging above the sink. He knelt down in front of her and handed her a large piece of broken glass. She felt her lower lip trembling as tears filled her eyes. "He's going to kill you..." She breathed.

Stanley shook his head. "No he's not. We're gonna fight back. I'll stay in front. You don't have to fight him unless he gets past me, okay?"

She couldn't help but to choke out a small sob. The killer had mentioned to her before that he was going to kill everyone she cared about. Gale had to admit, she didn't care much for many people, but if there was someone out in the world she almost considered a friend, it would be Stanley. He put up with a lot in order to continue working with her. And he was here right now - risking his life to save hers. She knew the killer had lured him here for a reason, and it wasn't so Stanley could save the day. This was all a sick game, and Stanley wasn't going to win it.

They both shrunk down again as the killer pounded violently against the other side of the door.

Stanley grabbed a rather large piece of glass of his own and gripped it in his hand. "Can you stand, Gale?" He asked her. "You've gotta be ready once he gets in here. I'm going to try to take him down, but just in case."

Gale tiredly dragged herself to her feet. Her whole body felt like lead. "If we don't make it..." She started. "If you don't-"

"We'll make it, Gale. This is gonna be your biggest news story yet, and somebody's gotta be there to film it, right? We'll make it." Stanley offered her a very forced-looking smile.

"I know I haven't let myself get to know you..." She breathed. "And haven't let you know me..."

"It's okay, Gale. Don't say your goodbyes, alright?" He offered a small laugh and a tight smile as he squeezed her shoulder carefully.

"I appreciate you. I never say it, but I do. You work hard, and you put up with so much from me..." Gale told him. "And you're here now, when you didn't have to be... Thank you, Stanley..." She let out a small, pathetic sounding sob. "...for trying."

"Gale, stop. I appreciate you too, okay? But we're gonna be fine." He grimaced and put his hand back, pushing her slightly behind him as the killer pounded against the door again, producing a loud cracking, splintering sound.

"I'm not a good person..." Gale whimpered, shaking her head. "I didn't want to know you."

"It's okay..." Stanley went on, pushing her further behind him as he backed them both away from the door. "Gale, I understand. You haven't had good luck with your camera men... I don't blame you for keeping your distance."

Gale felt Stanley flinch as he shoved her even further back into the room. She couldn't help but to scream as the bathroom door finally gave way and the killer made his way inside. He seemed agitated. Maybe he hadn't expected Stanley to make this so difficult.

Their attacker wasted no time at all lunging for Stanley with a knife he held in his hand. Stanley swung out his giant shard of glass at the same time. Neither one of them seemed to have hit the other.

As Stanley took a step back and the killer took a step forward, Gale took the opportunity given to her by the fact that the killer didn't seem to want her dead. She jumped forward and slammed her mirror shard toward him, hitting him in the upper part of his chest. Unfortunately, the broken glass cut into her hand too, and she still felt so weak from the drugs he'd forced on her. Though it was clear she'd hit him, it also quickly became clear that she hadn't gotten him very deep.

She lost her grip on the piece of glass and felt the killer backhand her hard across the face all at once.

With a pained groan, she stumbled back, tripping and landing against the wall near the door as the killer went for Stanley. Before she could pull herself up to her feet, the killer managed to stab Stanley in the same instant as the camera man slashed his own piece of glass up toward his attacker, perhaps aiming for his throat, but hitting only the top of his shoulder instead.

Gale gasped as she saw the killer's knife plunge into Stanley's stomach. She struggled to climb to her feet as Stanley dropped his piece of mirror onto the ground and choked up blood.

"Stanley!" Gale whimpered.

"Gale... run!" He advised as the killer brought his knife back up and stabbed it down into his chest. Stanley coughed up more blood as Gale felt tears filling her eyes.

She grabbed up another piece of glass off the floor. This one was smaller than the one she'd already lost, but it was better than nothing. She stabbed it toward the killer's back, hitting him near his shoulder blade. She pulled the glass back, hoping to drag it across his throat from behind, but he slammed his arm back again, hitting her hard enough to knock her off of her unsteady feet and back against the floor.

"Gale!" Stanley coughed again, looking weaker by the second. "Go! Run!"

Gale felt a sob make its way out of her mouth as the killer stabbed her camera man a third time. He wasn't going to survive this. there was no way... but perhaps she could get out at least... that would prevent the killer from using her to lure anyone else here... So she turned away and ran on wobbly legs, as fast as she could toward the front door.

Dark shadows edged at her vision as Gale stumbled toward the door. Her chest felt cold and she felt extremely light-headed. But she had to keep going. Hopefully Stanley had driven here, and hopefully he had left the keys in the ignition. She wasn't going to make it far on-foot.

She tripped toward the front door, grabbing the knob with both hands and pulling it open before stumbling down the stairs, falling to her knees at the bottom. She was so disoriented, and the early morning light after being trapped in the basement and darkness of the house's halls for so long made her feel even more so.

She scrambled to her feet and staggered toward the news van Stanley had parked in front of the house.

Just as she reached the van's door handle, she felt a large hand grab her wrist from behind and yank her roughly back.

Gale screamed as she tripped backward, landing against the ground with a pained cough.

The killer was on her in no time, climbing on top of her and grabbing at her wrists, easily pinning them to the ground above her head and staring down at her through the dark mesh of his ghost-face mask.

"Why are you doing this?" She sobbed.

"Baby, I told you I would..." He cocked his head to the side and stared down at her. "I said I'd kill everyone you care about... That doesn't seem like it'll take too long, since you mostly only care about yourself, but I guess there ended up being a couple people around here whose deaths matter to you more than the thrill of a good news story. Seems like your camera guy somehow won a tiny piece of your frozen heart. I guess next up is your cop boyfriend."

Gale shook her head and blinked back tears. "Please don't... You can do whatever you want to me. Kill me for all I care... Just don't hurt him... Please... Maybe I deserve this. He doesn't..."

"You think that helps his case, Gale?" The killer mocked. "The fact that you'd die for him only makes me more sure I've got to kill him."

"But why!?" Gale pulled at her arms, trying desperately to pull herself free from his grip. She was so tired.

The killer shrugged, ignoring her question and pulling her up off the ground. "Don't fight me. We're going back downstairs. I'm tying you back to the chair and taping your mouth." He told her.

Gale shook her head again and dragged her feet. "Please... Just let me go..." The last thing she wanted was to be tied down again.

"Remember what I said would happen if you don't cooperate?" The killer threatened.

As the killer pulled her along, Gale felt her breaths coming in short, panicked bursts and her heart thudding against her chest. She couldn't just let this happen. If he got her back into that basement, he would tie her down, find a way to lure Dewey here to save her, and kill him. If she didn't escape, it wasn't only her own life that was in danger. Remaining here meant Dewey would probably be killed too. She had to fight this. Maybe she'd get killed for it, but at least then the killer couldn't use her as bait.

"Don't be scared, sweet girl." The killer cooed near her ear, causing her to shudder and try to shrink away. "As long as you play nice, I won't even do anything else to you. You're gonna be fine. We'll just get rid of the cop, and it'll all be done."

Gale shook her head and whimpered. "No!" She tugged her wrists, exhaling a somewhat surprised breath when she managed to slip free. With her heart still pounding in her ears, she took off running as fast as she could. Unfortunately, the drugs he'd forced on her were still slowing her down. She felt like she was half asleep. Her legs felt so heavy and her lungs felt like they could only fill halfway with each shallow breath.

The reporter cried out a pained yelp as the costumed killer tackled her to the ground, seemingly with no effort whatsoever put into being careful about it. She coughed and moaned at the pain radiating through her body as his weight crushed her into the hard ground below. "No!" She screamed again, thrashing violently under him before screaming as loud as she could in an effort to attract absolutely anyone who might hear. They seemed to be away from town - at a farm house... but maybe there was a neighbor, or a passing vehicle with their windows down... someone... anyone...

"Help me! Heeellllp!" She screamed.

She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut as she felt a large, heavy hand slam violently against the side of her face. "Shut up." The killer's masked voice demanded. "You shut your god damned mouth right now." He warned.

Gale inhaled quick, painful breaths as she stared up at him. She silently debated screaming again. What choice did she have?

"You've got to start listening to me, you fucking bitch." The disguised voice growled as he grabbed both of her thin wrists in one bruising hand and gripped her jaw with his other hand, forcing her not to look away. "What did I tell you would happen if you acted like this?" He spoke. "I warned you more than once."

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Gale stared up at the mask, trying to see through the black mesh. She could almost see the outline of his eyes.

"I didn't want to do this..." The killer went on, moving his hand from her face and running it down her chest, squeezing and groping with a hard, rough hand. "I didn't want to force myself on you, Babydoll... But I told you I would if you didn't cooperate... Now I've got to. I can't let you walk all over me."

Gale shook her head as he groped her breast and then dragged his hand over her stomach, down her thigh, and toward the bottom of her skirt. "No... No, no no... Don't!" She began thrashing and screaming again. She felt entirely weak, but her adrenaline was kicking in. "Stop! Help me! Somebody help!" She screamed. She quickly felt another harsh blow to the side of her face, causing her vision to swim as her head lolled to the side.

She choked out a pained, frightened sob as she felt the killer's gloved hand running up her thigh and gripping the material of her panties under her skirt. His other hand still held her arms in place and his body weight pinned her legs down. She couldn't move.

As he began pulling at the delicate garment under her skirt, Gale squeezed her eyes shut and let out another, louder sob. "Please!" She begged. "I won't try to run... Please!" She felt herself shaking under his hands as she continued crying sobs she could no longer control. She pulled her legs close together, which only resulted in her attacker letting go of her wrists long enough to put a hand on each of her thighs and pry them apart. He pressed his knees hard down onto her legs to hold them there before grabbing at her wrists again and leaning down close to her face.

"Maybe I wasn't clear enough before, because I didn't come out and say it in the harshest way possible..." The killer spoke in slow, frustrated, measured words. "But if you fucking fight me, or try to escape, or do god damn anything that is against what I'm demanding of you, this is what will happen. I will push you down into the fucking ground, tear your clothes off of you, and fuck you. Is that clear enough? Do you understand that?"

Gale stared silently up at him. Her breaths were quick and shallow. She felt like she could faint.

"Do you get that, Gale?" The gravely voice rephrased. "This will happen each and every time you pull a stunt like this. Each time you scream, try to escape, fight with me... anything like that. I'll do it no matter where we are. Out here, inside... On a bed, on the floor. I don't care. I'll shove you to the ground, push this little skirt up your legs..." He moved his hand to do exactly what he described as she shook her head and whimpered a shaking sob. "Then I'll take these little panties off..." He ran his fingertips over the material. "And I'll do whatever I want from there..."

"Please..." She breathed. She felt herself shaking. "I'm sorry I ran. I won't do it again..." She shook her head slightly as she stared up at him through her tears.

"It's too late, Gale. You fucked up. So I guess now you just need to hold still and take it. Then we can work on deciding whether to listen to me from now on, or do this again." He shrugged. "I'll do it as many times as it takes for you fucking learn. I don't mind."

Gale whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut. His knees crushing her thighs down, holding them in place was so painful. His other bruising hand squeezing her wrists as he held them hurt too. But the worst part was his second hand, moving down to her trapped legs, pushing her skirt further up her thighs, and gripping her underwear again, slowly tugging at it.

"Please!" Gale sobbed, still trying desperately but uselessly to pull her legs out from under him. He was terrifyingly strong, and the pain in her body was only increasing with each passing second. "I won't fight anymore! I promise!" She begged, choking out another shaking sob. Breathing out terrified, trembling breaths, Gale shrunk down as much as possible, trying to take her mind away from this.

"I didn't want to do this." The killer said again, still tugging slowly at her panties. She wondered if he was taking his time on purpose or if the fact that he'd forced her legs apart and was using only one hand was making removing the garment more difficult than planned. "I don't like it when you cry, Gale. I don't want to have to hurt you..."

"Then stop!" She opened her eyes and stared up at him. Maybe she really could reason with him. He kept saying he didn't want to hurt her, that he didn't want to do these horrible things to her... Maybe he truly didn't want to resort to this. Maybe he just wanted to scare her into submission. "You don't have to do this... You don't have to keep hurting me. You can stop..." She breathed.

He stared down at her, but his gloved hand was still on her panties, tugging one side down her leg.

Gale stared back, shaking her head slightly back and forth. "Please stop..." She whispered. "I'll listen to you from now on... I was scared. That's why I ran. I didn't want you to hurt me. I was just scared..." She in took a shaking breath and continued in a small voice. "This scares me more. I won't try anything else. I get it. I'll cooperate if you stop."

Finally, she felt him pause. He slid her underwear back up her thigh the few inches he'd managed to pull one side of it down, but he let his hand rest on her leg for the moment. She whimpered as he slid his hand down between her legs and held it there. His fingers were right up against her panties, subtly threatening, overtly demonstrating that he could do whatever he wanted regardless of how she felt.

"You gonna do what you're told now?" He asked.

Gale felt herself trembling. "Yes..." She whispered.

"You sure? We can just get this over with right here, right now... If you fight with me one more damn time..." He shook his head. "I won't stop next time. This was your last warning."

"Okay." She gasped. She couldn't stop shaking, and couldn't ignore the fact that his hand was still under her skirt, right up against her panties. She wanted to tell him to get his fucking hand off her, now... but she didn't want to risk angering him again. At least he wasn't trying to undress her anymore. She knew this could get worse if she wasn't careful.

"Good girl." The killer cooed as he finally ran his hand down her thigh. He pulled the bottom of her skirt back down to cover her legs and grabbed her upper arms to pull her up off the ground. "That's not so hard, hm? You do what you're told... you don't get molested. And I don't have to try to fuck you while wearing this ridiculous costume. Win win for both of us." He laughed.

Gale swallowed and shrunk down, but didn't fight as he dragged her back toward the house. "Play nice, and I wont hurt you any more. Even though I should. You've been very defiant, considering the threats I've tossed your way. And you fucking stabbed me... twice. That hurt."

Gale felt like she could pass out as her attacker led her down to the basement. She'd never felt so defeated and frightened in her entire life. She wanted to keep fighting, but she was so fearful of his threats. He had gotten extremely close to doing things she absolutely didn't want him to do. She didn't want to risk angering him any more than she already had. She still wasn't sure if he really would do the things he threatened to do, or if he was just trying to scare her... He sure was devoted to making the threat seem real if he didn't really intend to carry it out though.

"You're lucky you barely got me with that glass." The killer told her as he pushed her down into the chair in the basement. "You pull that shit again and I'll have to hurt you."

She stared ahead, disassociating her mind from reality as he tied her wrists and ankles back to the chair and stretched a new piece of tape over her mouth. She didn't even realize she was crying until the killer's gloved hand wiped a tear off of her cheek.

"We're almost through this. You're gonna be better off in the end." The killer told her. "I'm sorry I have to keep you tied up. I'm sorry I had to hurt you... But you're gonna be okay. You don't give a damn about people anyway, so don't cry for camera-man-Stan too much."

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	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it weird that I'm still hung up on the same movie/characters that I was hung up on fifteen years ago? When am I gonna get over it? Scream is an amazing series of movies.

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Chapter 17

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Dewey sat at his desk, meticulously combing over the video of Gale the killer had sent. There had to be something in there that could tell him where it was filmed. He enhanced the audio, lightened the image... but could still hear next to nothing and see even less. He could barely see Gale, let alone her surroundings.

Knowing that he was running out of options, Dewey had allowed Randy to become a sort of consultant on the case. He could probably get fired for it, but he didn't care. He only cared about finding Gale... So he sent the younger man the video the killer had send to Dewey and was presently discussing Randy's take on it over the phone.

"Do you see or hear anything that could help?" Dewey asked into his cellphone as he and Randy combed over the video on their own individual computers. "I just can't make out anything useful... I don't know what to do..."

Randy hesitated for a moment. "I can't tell... I just... I'm not sure what the killer wants from her. It almost seems like he wants you to find her - to lure you to wherever it is, but there aren't enough clues to lead you in the right direction."

Dewey exhaled and closed his eyes. His heart hurt knowing that this video of Gale in fear and pain might be the last he ever saw of her. "Do you think she'll survive, Randy? If this were a horror film, where do you think this would be leading? Is she going to live?"

Randy didn't answer for a few seconds. Dewey only heard an exhale at first. "It's not a movie, Dewey. I know I'm always going on and on about that..."

"But if it were - how would it end?" Dewey asked. "You've been right about this stuff before. We're not in a movie. I know that. But movies are art, and art imitates life. Movies aren't entirely unrealistic."

"Okay..." Randy exhaled again. "I think... If this were a movie, and maybe even if it weren't - Gale might live... Might... She might be the final girl this time... but that doesn't mean you'll ever see her again. When Sidney filled that role, pretty much everyone she loved was killed. Maybe everyone Gale loves is going to be killed this time. That means you."

Dewey swallowed and nodded. He hoped if someone had to die, it would be him instead of her. Though of course, he hoped even more that it would be neither. "What about the fact that this would be a sort of sequel, or part of a trilogy?" Dewey asked. "Does that change anything? Don't the survival rates go up when the characters have been through it all before?"

Randy hesitated. "I don't know that I'd classify this as part of a trilogy though, Dewey. It's almost more of a spin off."

"A spin off?" Dewey frowned.

"Yeah." Randy went on. "Sid would have been the main character in the first one. The survivors all grow into a sort of group of survivors - so the five of us last time would have been growing into larger characters than we were in the first... but this isn't involving all the key players. This doesn't feel like a piece of the story for the core survivor group. This is yours and Gale's own spin off."

"So... Does that mean we'll live?" Dewey wondered. "Spin offs don't kill off their main characters."

"Sometimes they do." Dewey could hear a frown in Randy's voice. "Sometimes sequels do too. But not always. But again, this isn't a movie. I know I'm usually the first one to try to compare life to the movies, but maybe you shouldn't dwell on that this time."

Dewey nodded.

"I can't be sure, but if you watch the video, a couple things stand out..." Randy went on. "He's not entirely rough with her - and he could have been. He's taking his time. He only got violent when she fought back. She's tied down. He could kill her if he wanted. Easily. But he hasn't - at least not that we know of. He doesn't seem to want her dead. He might not even want to hurt her more then necessary. She didn't look that scuffed up. I think he's trying to be careful with her. Maybe he's just not good at it. But again, it might just be to lure you in. She could already be dead," Randy told him.

"Don't say that." Dewey closed his eyes and exhaled.

He blinked as he heard a notification chime on his computer. Another e-mail.

"Oh my god..." Dewey exhaled a shaking breath and moved his computer mouse with a shaking hand. The e-mail was from the same address as before, with another unsettling title: 'Gale's Encore.' It looked like another video. With a deep breath, Dewey clicked open the video and watched, ignoring Randy's voice as he put the phone down next to his computer and stared at the screen.

The video began with the killer mocking Gale, asking her to smile. His voice was disguised. He proceeded to hit her once in the ribs. He moved to strike again, but Gale had somehow gotten her hands free. She and the killer fought for a moment before he wrestled her back into the chair, tying her arms back and then grabbing her hair, tugging it back so she was forced to look up at him as he put his other hand on her thigh, pushing his fingers up under her skirt.

Dewey felt tears in his eyes. He didn't want to watch this. Gale looked so scared.

The killer mocked her again, reminding her that he had asked her once to cooperate. This must have been the threat of what was to come if she didn't. In many ways, this killer seemed far more ruthless than the others. It wasn't enough for him to just kill people. He had to hurt and terrorize them - He was doing so to Gale at least.

Tears fell silently down Dewey's cheeks as he heard Gale screaming and pleading between sobs. When her screams seemed to have become too annoying for her attacker, he let go of her leg and hit her hard across the face. Dewey saw blood dripping from her nose as the killer demanded that she shut up and slapped a thick strip of tape over her mouth.

The video ended with Gale sobbing, but the killer hadn't gotten up to turn the camera off. There had been something more. For whatever reason, he didn't include it in the video sent to Dewey.

Dewey shook his head. He had to move on with this. He couldn't afford to sulk. Gale couldn't afford for him to sulk. So he sent the video to Randy and picked his phone back up.

"He sent another one, Randy. I forwarded it to you." Dewey told him. He waited for Randy to receive and open the e-mail. He knew when the younger man had finished viewing the video, because that's when Randy finally spoke again.

"Dewey... Maybe I spoke too soon... That was really violent. Poor Gale..." Randy breathed. "Maybe he is trying to lure you in though - you didn't respond how he wanted, so he's escalating. Showing you he means it."

"Did he send you another one?" Sheriff Lake frowned as she walked out of her office and peered over Dewey's shoulder.

"I'll call you back." Dewey whispered into the phone. He wasn't supposed to be sharing this information with random university students. He hung up and looked back at the sheriff. "Yeah. He just sent it. I got it like two minutes ago."

Dewey played the video again for the sheriff, hoping she could somehow help. As she stared intently at the screen, she updated Dewey on more details of the case the entire police department was presently absorbed in.

"He didn't say so, but I think Anthony still thinks Henry's the killer." Dana told him. "But he and his friend Allen were working all night the night Gale was taken. Their shift ended at midnight. Allen worked a full shift. Henry was filling in the last couple hours for a friend's shift, so I suppose Henry could have still killed the girls at the Anderson house, but neither of them could have been the one to take Gale. Unless there are two killers and one of them isn't Henry or Allen, it still doesn't add up. The security footage at the warehouse confirms they were both working. It's the last footage of Gale too - she talks to them, leaves, and they go back to working. They aren't responsible... Unless Gale's kidnapping is unrelated, but that seems really unlikely."

Dewey frowned and looked at her. She was still staring with furrowed brows and a frown at the screen, silently watching Gale's pain and suffering. "He really thinks Henry killed his own sister?" Dewey wondered.

"Stranger things have happened. But it doesn't check out." Dana shrugged. "Play it again... There's something in the back of my mind... Something looks familiar here..."

Dewey swallowed and played the video again. It hurt to watch, but if the sheriff might glean something from it, it was worth playing as many times as she requested.

Dewey looked from the screen back up at the sheriff. Dana looked so entirely uncomfortable, and even angry. "I won't claim to like Gale much, but this is despicable. Even she doesn't deserve this. What a sick son of a bitch..."

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up. If this is what he's sending us - what's he doing to her that we don't get to see?" Dewey felt tears stinging his eyes again.

"We're gonna find her, Dwight." Dana promised. "And trust me... This guy's gonna pay for this."

"I hope so, Sheriff... I can't live with myself otherwise. I treated her like dirt... She was just doing her job-" Dewey started.

"So were you. She knows that." The sheriff squeezed her hand on his shoulder and then frowned as she stared at the computer screen. "Wait-" She pointed toward the screen. "That wallpaper..."

"What?" Dewey stared at the screen, trying to see what the sheriff saw.

"I investigated a case before I was sheriff - down at the Waters farm. Nathan Waters - the old man whose wife died. I was on that case. Her body was found in the basement, so we worked down there for hours, looking for evidence that wasn't there. That ugly ass wallpaper... I recognize it... I've never seen uglier wallpaper in my life. I think she might be at the Waters house!"

"He wasn't guilty though..." Dewey reminded her. "Remember? Edna Waters fell down the stairs while Nathan was out in the field and-"

"But that's where Gale is, Dwight. I'm not saying we were wrong on that case, but I haven't seen that wallpaper anywhere else. She's there." Dana explained. "We need to get there before it's too late."

"He's like eighty years old, Dana..." Dewey frowned.

"I didn't say he's a suspect... But he very well may be a victim." The sheriff frowned. She looked around the office. "Let's go... We'll call for backup on the way. We might not have time to spare."

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	18. Chapter 18

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CHAPTER 18

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With wide, fearful eyes, Gale stared up the basement stairs as her masked kidnapper made his way toward her. Every time she saw him approaching, a fresh, cold fear seized her heart. He didn't really seem to hang around her for any reason that wasn't nefarious. So far, any time he approached her, something painful or terrifying followed soon after.

She let her eyes scan over toward his hands, trying to see if he was carrying anything that would cause pain or humiliation. He didn't have the camera this time - not unless it was in an unseen pocket. There was something in his hand though. It looked like a dark strip of cloth. She swallowed a nervous, dry gulp as she stared at the cloth. What was it for? She was already tied up and silenced. What more could he do?

As he drew nearer, Gale tried to shrink back, pressing herself against the chair as her breaths increased and she let out an inadvertent, muffled whimper through the thick piece of tape covering her lips.

Without a word, the ghost-masked killer raised the strip of cloth up toward her face, causing Gale to flinch away and turn her head. He all but ignored her gestures and wrapped the cloth firmly but still almost gently around her head, covering her eyes. Gale could feel herself trembling as her heart pounded and her short breaths increased in frequency.

She balled her hands into fists and held still - as it was the only thing she could do. She could hear cloth rustling, but no footsteps. The killer was still down here with her, and still stood pretty close by. She wished her mouth wasn't taped closed. She wanted answers, but wasn't afforded the right to ask questions.

Gale immediately let out an involuntary, muffled cry of fear as she felt hands on her upper arms. The gloves were gone. That must have been why he'd covered her eyes. Maybe he was tired of wearing the costume... She flinched as far as she could as she felt his hands moving slowly down the length of her arms. He still wasn't speaking, and she certainly couldn't break the silence... so she did the only thing she could - she continued shifting and pulling at her wrists and ankles, doing her best to ignore the fact that the ropes around them were rubbing against her skin in a way that was increasingly painful.

Gale whimpered again and shook her head as she felt one of his hands move up to her face. He ran his thumb over her cheek and then moved his fingers to run carefully through her hair. She shook her head harder and tried and failed to communicate through the tape stifling her voice.

His hands moved off of her for a moment, but she knew better than to feel relieved just yet. She soon felt one of his hands on her thigh, running carefully over her skin. Gale pulled uselessly at the binds around her ankles and choked out a pitiful sob. There was nothing she could do to stop this. She shrunk away as much as she could, but it wasn't far. Now the fingers of both of his hands were running lightly over thighs, fortunately not yet going too far under her skirt... but it was still terrifying, and she was beyond fearful of what was to come next.

Gale felt her shoulders shaking as she couldn't help but to continue crying. She felt so weak and helpless. This was humiliating - to be so entirely defenseless - to have someone touching her, hurting her, threatening the people she loved... and for there to be absolutely nothing she could do to regain control.

She sniffed back tears as she felt his hands move off of her legs. After that, she didn't feel his hands on her at all. She inhaled short, shaking breaths through her nose and remained cowered down as much as possible as she waited to see what was to come next. She knew he could easily do whatever he wanted to her. It was clear to both him and her that there would be nothing she could do about it if he decided to deliver on his earlier threats. It certainly seemed like something he was interested in - and if he would brutally murder people, surely he wasn't opposed to rape. She wasn't sure why he hadn't followed through yet, and was in constant fear that he might do just that at any moment. He'd certainly come close more than once - especially outside by the news van. For some reason, he was holding back thus far.

When she heard his feet moving back up the stairs, Gale exhaled a trembling breath. Every time he finally left her alone for the time being, she felt immense relief. Even so, she knew it wouldn't last. This wouldn't be over until he either killed everyone who mattered to her, or until she somehow managed to escape - which didn't look likely at this point.

Gale shivered as she could do nothing but sit still and wait. Did he cover her eyes for a reason beyond wanting to touch her without her seeing any distinguishing characteristics on his hands? She noticed he had taken off his gloves after putting the blindfold on her eyes. Had he taken off the rest of the costume too? If so, why? What was his plan?

She couldn't really do much even if she figured out what his next move was. She had never been more defenseless in her entire life. She was tied down so securely, couldn't speak, couldn't even see... and the drugs he'd given her earlier before Stanley's murder weren't quite worn off. Even if she got free at this point, she wasn't sure she had the strength to make it out the front door. She felt so tired and drained.

Gale turned her head in her own personal darkness as she heard the sound of a car's door closing outside. What did that mean? Was someone else here to attempt and fail to save her? And if so, did the killer lure them here deliberately just to kill them? Was it Dewey?

She felt tears in her eyes as she thought about the possibility of Dewey being tricked into coming here alone just to be killed - and she was so close, but could do nothing to protect him.

She heard the front door open, but not much else. If it was Dewey, he was being cautious. At least there was that. Maybe he could survive this after all - and if he did, he could find her next, and help her get free... Gale wasn't drugged this time - or at least not as heavily drugged - the other unknown drug might not have quite worn off judging by how groggy and tired she felt. Even so, she was more alert than when Stanley was here. She felt more capable, so maybe she could be more helpful if she and Dewey had to fight their way out of this.

Gale's heart pounded in her chest as she heard another two car doors close a few minutes later, followed by more quick footsteps and frantic but hushed voices. She could swear one of them was Dewey's. The other sounded like a woman. Maybe the sheriff.

All she could do was listen to the commotion upstairs. She flinched and whimpered as she heard a gunshot... Then another. Frantic voices. More footsteps. Someone was running. Maybe two people were. She heard another gunshot, feet running in different directions, doors opening and closing.

Gale whimpered and shrunk down in the chair when she heard the basement door open, followed by quick footfalls down the steps. Her breaths increased and her ears rung as she began to fully panic. She had no idea who was there and couldn't speak to ask them to identify him or herself.

She flinched and held her breath as she felt a hand on her arm, but it wasn't followed by pain, or taunts, or any inappropriate or threatening gesture. Instead, she felt the tape being peeled off her mouth.

It wasn't until Gale could finally speak again that she realized how exhausted and drained she still felt. She was finally able to ask who was there in front of her, but couldn't quite bring herself to do so. "Who-" She breathed swallowing back a dry gulp that made her throat hurt. She was so thirsty, and felt so weak. She must have been here for at least twelve hours by now.

"You're gonna be okay, Gale." A woman's voice told her as she unwrapped the blindfold from the reporter's face and brushed some loose strands of hair out of her eyes. "We're gonna get you out of here, honey. Stay calm."

"Sheriff?" Gale whispered as she blinked in the new brightness surrounding her once the blindfold was removed. The other woman must have turned on the light when she came down here. It was much brighter than it had been.

"Yeah, it's Sheriff Lake..." She answered with a forced smile and a soft hand on Gale's cheek. "You're safe now, Gale. He's not gonna hurt you any more."

Gale shook her head and breathed in and out shaking breaths. Her chest was filled with panic. This wasn't over. She wasn't safe. Neither was the sheriff, and neither was Dewey.

Sheriff Lake frowned as she let her eyes scan over Gale's body. The reporter noticed the other woman's eyes lingering on her thighs. Gale looked down at herself. The inside of her thighs had several dark bruises forming on them where the killer had roughly pried her legs apart and pinned them down with his knees. She frowned and looked up toward the sheriff's face, meeting the woman's concerned gaze. She opened her mouth to explain that the truth wasn't nearly as horrible as what the sheriff was likely imagining, but she couldn't find the right words. Her head still felt muddled.

The sheriff exhaled. "It's okay, Gale... This nightmare's almost over." She looked Gale up and down again, scanning her body for anything that stood out as significant. "Are you injured in any way that I should be worried about moving you?" She asked. "He didn't stab you or shoot you anywhere, did he? No broken bones?"

Gale felt herself shivering as she shrunk down and exhaled a shaking breath. "I don't think so..." She answered with an degree of uncertainty as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She didn't think any of her injuries were significant, but she really wasn't sure anymore. The killer had been pretty rough with her more than once, and she didn't even know what the drug he'd given her was. For all she knew, it could kill her if she didn't get medical treatment.

"Gale..." The sheriff sounded almost worried as she put her hand on the reporter's shoulder again. "Open your eyes. Look at me."

Reluctantly, Gale blinked her heavy eyelids back open and looked at the older woman.

"Did he give you something?" Lake knelt down close and looked into Gale's eyes. The sheriff frowned and furrowed her brow as she stared at Gale with the type of concern usually reserved for children. "You seem a little out of it, honey. Did he drug you?"

Gale shrugged and exhaled tiredly. "He injected me with something. I don't know... but it was while ago."

"Okay..." Lake nodded. "Let's get you out of here. You're safe now. He can't hurt you anymore. We'll get this all sorted out." The sheriff promised.

"Where's Dewey? Is he okay?" Gale managed to ask.

Sheriff Lake shook her head. "He's upstairs somewhere. Let's get you untied."

"How did you find me? Did the killer contact you?" Gale wondered as Lake untied her wrists. "Is he up there with Dewey? We have to help him... He lured you here on purpose. He did the same thing to Stanley, my camera man. He tricked him into coming here and killed him..." Gale's voice shook as her vision blurred with tears.

"The killer sent us videos. I recognized the wallpaper. I worked a case at this house once. Dwight'll be okay. Anthony can help him. We called for backup on the way and Anthony met us here. They're armed, and ready to deal with this. They'll catch the son of bitch, but until then, we need to get you outside to wait on an ambulance. Their response time isn't great to the farmhouses out here, but one should be on the way." The sheriff told her.

Gale shook her head. This killer wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to lure Dewey here without a plan in place. It didn't matter that the cops were armed. They were probably armed when Cody was killed too.

"I don't need an ambulance. I've got to help Dewey..." Gale disagreed. She reached her now-free hands down to help untie her second ankle, but her trembling fingers couldn't seem to do the trick. As she fumbled with the ropes and frustration and panic bubbled up inside her, Gale let out a small, shaking whimper. "I've got to help him..."

"Honey, I don't think you're in any condition... Let me get that." Lake swatted her hands gently to the side and finished untying Gale's ankle. "I'll help Dwight. I won't let anything happen to him. The best thing you can do is wait outside. You're in no condition to be fighting this guy. I sound like a broken record, and I'm not even trying to be a bitch here, but please, Gale, leave it to the cops."

Gale dragged herself up on unsteady feet. "Are you armed?" She asked the sheriff.

Lake stared back at her incredulously, gripping Gale's arm when the reporter swayed slightly. She hadn't stood up in quite a while and her limbs were stiff and exhausted. She was probably dehydrated and could easily have broken ribs from the rather rough punch the killer had delivered earlier. Whoever the guy was, he was strong.

"You need to sit this one out, Gale." Lake advised.

Shaking her head, Gale shrugged out of the woman's grip. "I'll sit out when this is over."

She rushed up the stairs, with Lake following closely behind. "Gale, at least let me go first. I am armed."

"Fine." Gale breathed. She felt so exhausted. "Let's just hurry."

They made their way quickly but cautiously through the house, ending up in the hall at the bottom of a set of stairs.

"Gale!" Dewey's voice rang out from somewhere behind her.

"Dewey!" Gale's voice shook with tears as she looked up toward the sound. Dewey was at the top of the stairs. She moved to run up them just as another gunshot rung out through the house.

Dewey winced and grabbed at his shoulder as he stumbled down the steps.

"No!" Gale cried as she quickened her pace up the stairs in an attempt to break his fall. He yelped as another shot rang out, hitting him again. She couldn't tell where he'd been hit this time. All she knew was that the second shot caused him to fall further down the stairs and stumble right into her. His weight was fully against her, causing her to trip back against the wall midway down the stairs with Dewey landing on top of her.

"Dwight!" Lake screamed, rushing toward the cop and reporter. Another shot rang out through the house. This one hit the sheriff, who cried out a pained scream and fell the to ground. Gale could see the masked killer at the top of the stairs now, holding a gun in his gloved hand.

Gale inhaled and exhaled deep, shaking breaths as she kept her eyes focused on the killer, who moved his gun so that it pointed from Dewey to Lake, seemingly waiting to see if either was going to stand up. Gale didn't even seem to be on his radar.

Since the killer didn't seem interested in killing her, Gale decided to focus on Dewey rather than herself. She rolled him off of her and put her hand against his throat to feel for a pulse. She wasn't sure if she felt one or not.

"Dewey..." Gale whimpered, glancing from the cop to the sheriff. Neither one was moving. She looked up toward the killer, who was now making his way slowly down the stairs. Gale supposed she was next... but at this point, she wasn't even sure she cared.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shrunk down until she heard the unmistakable sound of a gunshot, followed by a strong thud.

xxxxxx


	19. Chapter 19

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CHAPTER 19

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When the gunshot she heard was not followed by excruciating pain, Gale opened her eyes.

"Gale!" Anthony's voice called out from somewhere.

Gale's ears rung - or maybe it was the sound of her own heart pounding so loud it was all she could hear. She felt lightheaded. Her chest felt cold. She looked around herself. A growing pool of blood was gathering under Sheriff Lake's unconscious form. Dewey lay next to her, face-down. There wasn't as much blood there... maybe he was okay...

She looked up the stairs, where the dark-robed killer, still wearing the ghost mask, lay halfway up, unmoving. Was he really dead? Was that too much to hope for? Had Anthony shot him? Where was Anthony anyway.

"Gale..." Anthony's voice sounded closer, yet still somehow distant. She felt a hand on her arm and shrunk down. "Gale, it's okay... I got him. It's over."

Gale shook her head. "Is an ambulance coming? I think Dewey might be alive..."

"I don't think he's alive, Gale." Anthony told her, reaching out in an attempt to pull her up to her feet.

"No!" She shrugged away from his hands and tried to feel Dewey's throat for a pulse. "He's not dead! We've got to help him!"

"Honey, I don't think we can..." Anthony persisted. "But the killer's dead too. I got him. We're gonna be okay."

Gale shook her head. She didn't care if the killer was dead. If Dewey died too, it didn't matter. Her own heart was pounding as she tried to feel if Dewey's was beating as well. She couldn't tell.

"Gale, it's over. I got him. I shot the killer. Don't you want to know who it is?" Anthony frowned.

Gale looked up at him. "I don't care who it is! Dewey needs an ambulance! The sheriff does... if she's..." Gale choked out a sob. "I think she's dead..." Gale looked around the space, at Dewey, at the sheriff. She looked up at Anthony and glanced up toward the masked stranger on the stairs. She was interested to see who it was, but Dewey needed her attention first.

"There's an ambulance on the way." Anthony told her. "Let's go outside together and wait on it - we can show them were to go when they get here. If Dewey is alive, he's gonna need you to direct the paramedic toward him."

"No," Gale shook her head and pulled Dewey into her lap. She knew he'd been shot in the shoulder, but couldn't find the other wound... but he wasn't moving, and her own heart was pounding so hard she couldn't tell if the pulse she felt in her fingertips when she pressed them against his throat was his or her own.

"He's gone, Gale... It's over. We've got to go. There could be a second killer. In fact I'm pretty sure there is. We need to go." Anthony urged, pulling her up by her arms and dragging her away from Dewey.

"No! He's not gone!" Gale felt a sob rising in her throat again. He couldn't be gone. Not Dewey. It wasn't possible.

"Gale, Sweetheart... He's gone. I'm sorry." Anthony dragged her into the next room and closed the door behind them.

Gale shrugged out of his grip and stared up at him. "Why won't you let me help him?" She breathed. "He's your friend..."

"I know... Gale, I'm not happy about this... but it's not safe out there. You and I are lucky to be alive, but if we stay out there in the open, we'll end up dead too. The second killer is probably just waiting to get a clear shot at us. Henry had an alibi for some of the murders. They weren't all him. There's got to be a second killer."

Gale felt her mouth drop open. "Henry? It was your brother? How do you know that?" She gasped. They hadn't even taken off his mask.

"It all adds up. He sent us videos he took of you. We traced it to his computer." Anthony explained. "But he was working when you were abducted. That was someone else. We've got to stay here until backup arrives. Just in case."

"I don't care... I'm not waiting for backup. Dewey needs me." Gale refused, attempting to push past the cop.

"Gale!" Anthony was beginning to sound angry as he put his arm out to block her path."Going out there won't solve anything. You'll just be putting yourself at risk. Dewey's dead. I know you don't like it, but he's dead."

"No he's not!" Gale felt tears springing to her eyes as Anthony wrapped his arms around her in an unwelcome hug. "Get off of me! He's not dead!"

"Yes he is. Don't cry. I know it sucks..." Anthony attempted to comfort her with a hand against her back. "You'll be okay, Babydoll. Don't cry."

"What..." Gale sniffed back tears and pulled away as much as Anthony's strong arms allowed. He wasn't really letting her go easily. Her head felt like it was full of cotton or sand, but his words echoed in her mind. Something sounded way too familiar about his tone, his word-choice... his insistence that she shouldn't cry... She looked up at him. "Wh-what did you just call me?"

Anthony shrugged. "I don't know... what? I-"

"You..." Gale felt her eyes widen as she finally shrugged out of his grip and took a step back. Only one person on earth had ever called her 'babydoll.' She remembered it well because it was so creepy and uncomfortable, especially considering the circumstances under which the pet name was used.. "The killer called me that... It was you..." She gasped the realization and stepped further away. He was blocking her only exit...

"Called you what?" Anthony frowned. "I call people lots of things. I don't mean to. It just happens. What did I even say?"

"You called me babydoll..." She shook her head and took another step back.

"So?" He shrugged. "I'm sure I've called you lots of little names like that. Cute girl like you? That sort of thing's bound to happen." He smirked.

"No... You used the same name... Babydoll... That's what you said... that's what he said. No one else has ever called me that..." Gale bit her lower lip and took further steps away, backing herself into a literal corner. It all made sense now. The two brothers had worked together. Henry looked so guilty because he was, and Anthony wasn't just looking the other way or failing to see the obvious because he didn't want to believe it. He was covering for Henry because it wasn't only Henry. He was also covering for himself.

"Come on, Gale.. That's hardly evidence... Lots of men call women pet names like that." Anthony went on as he took a step toward her.

"No." She shook her head as he stepped closer. "Stay away from me..." She breathed. He moved in closer. She dodged and ran around him, sprinting toward the door, but not making it before Anthony grabbed her harshly by the arm and tugged her roughly backward.

"Listen here, Babydoll." He spoke in a mocking tone. "You're being a bitch. This isn't how this was supposed to work out..."

"How was it supposed to work out?" Gale breathed, trying to shrink down as he gripped her with both hands, holding her upper arms in such a tight hold that she feared he was creating deeper bruises than the ones already circling her wrists.

"I did this all for you, Gale..." Anthony growled, squeezing his hands tighter. "I killed my own fucking brother. For you!"

Gale opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find words. None of that made sense.

"Why do you want to be with fucking Dwight? What the fuck do you see in him? He doesn't even appreciate you! He bitches about every fucking thing you do! I talked to you when he wouldn't... Gave you the information for your news report. I'm more attractive... I'm older, taller, more muscular... I get paid more... Gale, are you fucking kidding me?" Anthony screamed, shaking her for emphasis.

Gale inhaled a shaking breath. "You thought I'd be with you if you killed Dewey? You were willing to kill your own brother over this?"

"Kind of... It was in my back pocket. I thought of ways he and I could both live. That was my original plan - he could get his revenge, I could rid of a couple people and win your ice-cold heart, and we'd blame someone else, but after he killed our sister... That wasn't part of the plan... Fuck him." Anthony laughed nervously. "Even so... I sacrificed a lot for you... And I didn't enjoy all that down there, you know... hitting you, threatening you, making you cry... I felt bad. I really did. I held back a lot. You know that, right?"

Gale swallowed, pulling lightly at her arms, which only caused Anthony to squeeze tighter. She winced and forced herself to hold still. The police would be here soon. Sheriff Lake said she'd called for backup and an ambulance. Gale just needed to keep Anthony from killing her until then.

"You realize I was careful with you, right?" Anthony's voice shook slightly. He sounded almost manic. "I wanted to tear your clothes off and have my way with you. I really, really wanted to... But I didn't. You cried, and I stopped. You fought with me the whole damn time, even after I told you I'd fucking rape you if you didn't stop fighting. I gave you fair warning, and you didn't listen, but I still gave in and didn't do it. I could have. It would have been fair... but I gave in. You were scared and you were crying, so I stopped."

Panic filled Gale's heart as she stood silently and allowed him to continue his rant/explanation. She wasn't really sure what to say back. Maybe if she just stayed quiet, he'd keep going until the police backup and ambulance arrived.

"And when I hit you - for the camera... that was just so Dwight would get a move on. I didn't want to resort to that, but he wasn't trying hard enough to come fucking find you. This was supposed to be sorted within like three hours. It took four or five times longer just because Dwight is a fucking idiot. I didn't want to hurt you. I wanted to be your hero, Gale... to show you what a real man is. You're too hot to be with him."

Gale frowned. She should have known Anthony was bad news when he started acting creepy last night. That didn't feel right - the way he was talking as he took her back to her hotel. She knew something was up... but ignored it because she knew Dewey trusted the guy. She should have listened to herself. She knew better.

"So I'm sorry..." Anthony went on. "I'm sorry I hit you. And I'm sorry I had to scare you with the rape threats..." He laughed nervously. "Sorry I treated you like that. It was just for this whole plan, but that's not me... I'm not like that. Forgive me?"

Gale stared up at him in shock. "Are you fucking insane?" She finally hissed. She couldn't help herself. Playing nice just didn't come naturally to her. "You drug me, leave me tied up to a chair for half a day, hit me, threaten me, sexually assault me, film half of it..." She shook her head and shrugged. "You killed my friend... Tried to kill Dewey - he could be dying out there right now... And sorry's supposed to fix it?"

"Yeah. It is. It better." Anthony growled, stepping closer and pinning her securely against the wall. "It doesn't matter that you know the truth. Right now, you're the only living person besides me who knows it... and it's gonna stay our little secret. Maybe Dwight isn't dead. But he will be if you don't do what I say. I can go out there and make for damn sure he's dead, right now if you don't stop being a bitch."

Gale whimpered and turned her face to the side as he leaned in too close.

"I think maybe you're gonna break up with Dewey. If he's even alive, that is... I think maybe you fell in love with someone else?" Anthony smirked.

Gale swallowed and exhaled a shaking breath. She felt lightheaded again. She couldn't believe Anthony expected this to work. No way would it ever last. Best case for him, Gale would lie to him and claim she'd date him later... but she was one thousand percent going to the police about this as soon as possible if he let her live long enough.

"So is it a deal? Keep your mouth shut, be my babydoll." He smirked down at her. "And I won't go shoot your dipshit lover in the fucking head."

Gale's lower-lip trembled. She couldn't believe he was asking her to do this. It seemed he wasn't even going to wait for her to agree before moving in. She whimpered and turned her head to the side as he leaned down and attempted to plant a kiss on her lips.

"No!" She cried out, using her hands to weakly attempt to shove him away.

Anthony exhaled. "I'm not really asking you anymore. If you insist, I'll just have to kill you too. If you can't appreciate what I did for you, if you can't shut your fucking mouth on just this one god damn thing..." His voice increased in volume as he went on. She could tell he was losing patience fast. "I'll be the sole fucking survivor... But I'm taking what I want from you first."

"Get off of me!" Gale screamed as she felt his hands roughly pawing at her. He wasn't even bothering to hold her arms down at this point. He knew he didn't have to. He knew he was much stronger than she was, especially considering she was dehydrated and hurt already.

Gale struggled uselessly as she felt his hand snaking under her shirt, over her stomach and up toward her breasts. His other hand tried to pull her skirt down. Fortunately, he was too stupid to realize the skirt needed to be unzipped before it could be pulled down. It was smaller at the top, where it fit snugly around her waist.

"Don't!" She begged, feeling her lip trembling as a sob worked its way up her throat. "You said you didn't want to hurt me... Please!" Tears began rolling down her cheeks as she grabbed at his arm, trying to pull his hand away from her chest.

"That's not going to work this time." Anthony stared down at her. "I was being nice so you'd let me do this without a fight. If you're never gonna let me, I'm not gonna play nice anymore."

She closed her eyes as she felt his fingers sliding under her bra. "Let me go! Stop!" Gale frantically pleaded. "I'll date you! I'll do it... just..." She breathed a shaking breath.

He paused for a second, but was squeezing her breast under her shirt again within no time when she didn't immediately elaborate.

"Anthony, stop! I'll do it... Just let me go to the hospital first..." She gasped. "I think you broke my ribs earlier. My wrists hurt so bad... Just let me go to the hospital first. I'll go along with this, but you're hurting me..." He seemed to have a desire to be careful with her, to an extent. Maybe this plan would actually work if she could convince him he'd won. No one in his right mind would believe that a woman he kidnapped, beat, and sexually assaulted would all of a sudden agree to date him, but Anthony clearly wasn't in his right mind.

The cop's hands stopped wandering as he frowned and stared down at her as though silently waiting for her to continue.

"You're right..." She breathed, fighting the urge to shove him away as she held still under his threatening hands. "Dewey and I don't really get along... You talked to me when he wouldn't. You're more attractive and successful. You're right. I can break up with him and be with you. I can do that..." She felt out of breath and her voice betrayed that fact. She hoped he wouldn't notice.

"Really?" Anthony smiled and pulled her closer against his chest.

Gale breathed a shaking breath. Her chest felt cold. "Yes... But I need to go to the hospital first."

Anthony shook his head and ran his hand up her back.

"Anthony, stop..." Gale whimpered. "I said I'd do it... Just..." He continued running his hands over her body, pulling her even closer and pretty much ignoring her protests completely. "Anthony, wait... You have to let me go to the hospital first. I could have broken ribs..." He hugged her tighter as he pushed one hand up under her shirt, groping painfully over her bruised ribs. "Anthony stop! You're hurting me!"Gale's voice was becoming more and more frantic.

Anthony laughed softly and shook his head. "I'll be careful." He breathed, leaning down again as though expecting she'd let him kiss her.

Gale gritted her teeth and turned her head away again, grabbing at his arm as his other hand forced it's way further under her shirt. "Stop!" She screamed again. "Anthony, don't do this! You're hurting me! Stop!" She shoved at him again, but he only grabbed her harder, squeezing painfully at her chest. Finally, she resorted to slamming her knee up between his legs. She knew it would piss him off, but it was her only option - the only way she could hurt him back for potentially long enough to allow herself time to run.

That slowed him down, but didn't stop him. Before she could get away, he hit her across the face so that she stumbled against the wall. He proceeded to punch her ribs again, causing her to double over. She was prepared to sink down to the floor, but he didn't allow it. He pulled her up to her feet and dragged her a few steps over toward a pool table, slamming her back roughly against it. She blinked and groaned in pain as he pushed her backward so that she was lying against the table, looking up at him.

"Get off of me, you disgusting creep!" She screamed as she shoved her hands against his chest. Her voice shook with a mix of fear and anger.

"Feels so good to finally have that mask off without having to worry about you seeing something you shouldn't. I can finally breathe. And I can see you better." Anthony noted as he slid his hand over her stomach and back onto her breast, fortunately over her shirt at least this time. "And I can finally kiss you." He stared to lean down toward her face.

Gale gritted her teeth and reached her hands up, scratching at his eyes without a second thought.

"Bitch!" Anthony grumbled, slapping her across her cheek again, effortlessly spinning her around, and pushing her face-first down against the table. He held one large hand over the back of her head and reached the other down toward her legs, gripping the bottom of her skirt and pushing it up her thighs. "You're so soft... Your hair, your skin... I mean, you sure can be a difficult person to like, but you're fucking gorgeous. I can get over you being a cunt half the time. This is worth it."

Gale whimpered a panicked breath as she pushed her hands uselessly at the table. She reached one hand back toward her attacker's prying hands. She squirmed under him, finding that unfortunately, not being tied up anymore was hardly helping. He was so strong, and determined to take what he wanted.

"Anthony, don't!" She sobbed doing her best to hold her skirt down as he attempted to push it further up her legs. "You won't get away with this..." She breathed through the pain in her ribs and arms and the fear in her heart.

"Sure I will. Henry and one of his friends did all this. I stopped him. I tried to save you. I was too late." Anthony laughed. "It really is a shame. We could have been hot together. I guess I should have just fucked you all I wanted and skipped luring people here. I truly thought you'd be interested in a more capable, more attractive, more successful man... I didn't count on you being a fucking prude."

"Your disgusting DNA's gonna be all over me, you dipshit." She hissed through clenched teeth.

"Doesn't mean I'm guilty, babydoll. You worked so hard to clear Cotton Weary... His DNA was all over a murdered woman too... Guess Woodsboro has a way about making women into little sluts, hm?" Anthony mocked, sliding his hand further up her leg.

Gale felt a frustrated growl in her throat as she tried again to squirm free or even lash out toward him. He held her down too securely. "Don't touch me!" She screamed, losing any and all hope that she was going to get out of this. "Get your fucking hands off of me!"

"Anthony! What are you doing!? Get off of her!" Dewey's voice screamed from the doorway.

Gale gasped and stared toward the door, where Dewey stood with his gun drawn. She felt a small degree of relief, but the fear wasn't quite gone just yet. Anthony was armed too. This wasn't necessarily over.

"Dewey!" Gale choked out in a shaking voice.

"Anthony, what the hell!?" Dewey growled, seemingly not fully understanding the gravity of the situation. He held his gun up, aimed at Anthony with shaking arms, but looked conflicted as to whether or not to use it.

"Sorry, man... I think Gale likes me more-" Anthony started, but he pulled Gale up off of the table, probably to make this whole situation look less horrible. He didn't let go of her arms.

"He's the killer, Dewey! One of the killers... Shoot him!" Gale urged.

Dewey looked conflicted as he hesitated. "A-are you sure, Gale?"

"Yes!" Gale screamed, groaning in pain as Anthony grabbed her arms tighter and pulled her in front of himself. At some point he'd drawn a gun from somewhere. She wished she'd known he had that. She would have tried to get it from him earlier when he was attacking her.

She squeezed her eyes shut as Anthony pressed the end of his gun against her jaw.

"I had big plans, Dwight. You were both gonna get to live..." Anthony growled, squeezing Gale's arm in his large, bruising hand. "You just weren't going to be dating anymore... if you ever even were in the first place. You both act like you fucking hate each other. Gale was gonna get a better man who didn't mind her being a bitch as long as the sex was good, and Dwight was gonna be rid of the sorta-girlfriend who caused him more grief than joy. Everything was gonna work out for everyone involved."

Dewey stared at him in shock. "How..." Dewey started. "You were with me... At the barn, at the station... Your sister... It couldn't have been you..."

"Henry did most of them. I kinda let him run wild with the expectation that I'd get what I wanted in the end. He took it way too far. Abby was never meant to die." Anthony sounded genuinely sad as he said this.

Dewey shook his head as he stared back behind Gale at his partner. "Anthony... this is crazy... Just... Just let her go. You said it yourself, Henry did most of it. Let him take the blame. Let's just-"

"No." Anthony interrupted in a cold, serious tone. "For Henry, this was revenge. For me, it was all for her..." he nodded toward Gale and pressed the gun harder against her jaw. Gale grimaced and tried to shrink down. "If I can't have her, you guys can't have your lives. I'm not stupid. I know you won't stay quiet on this."

"If you just let her go-" Dewey started.

"Dwight." Anthony said simply, shaking his head. "You and I both know there's only one way this can end at this point. You've both gotta die." Anthony shrugged and pressed his gun closer against Gale's jaw. Gale squeezed her eyes shut as she felt Anthony's free hand pawing at her breast. She wished she had time for one last conversation with Dewey, but it didn't sound like that was going to happen. "I'm gonna miss you, Babydoll..." Anthony whispered into her ear.

Gale flinched away, trying to escape, but Anthony's grip was so strong. She couldn't move. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter and shrunk down, but couldn't really get away from the gun pressing painfully against her jaw or his hand crushing against her chest.

It seemed like this was the end for her. Hopefully Dewey would escape at least. Anthony would shoot her, and then Dewey would shoot him. The cop would get to live. At least there was that... The best she could hope for was to make one last effort to throw Anthony off. She figured she'd probably get shot anyway, but could at least save Dewey, give him more time to definitely hit his target.

So Gale inhaled a quick breath, whimpered, and squeezed her eyes shut tighter. "I love you, Dewey." She whispered before throwing her elbow back as hard as she could against her captor's stomach.

A gunshot immediately rang out and Gale was pulled down to the floor. She let out a startled scream as she shrunk down as much as she could. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion as she started to process what had happened. Anthony's gun had been pressed painfully against her jaw when the gunshot rang out... but she wasn't hit. She didn't think so at least. She felt no pain - not on her jaw - not from a gunshot. So what had happened?

She blinked. Anthony hadn't shot her... Could he have shot Dewey then? Maybe he moved the gun quickly off of her so he could kill the armed cop first... But why was she on the ground? The gunshot had to have been from Dewey's gun. He'd shot Anthony. That's why she was presently crushed against the floor. When Anthony was shot and fell to the ground, his body had pulled her down along with it.

Within seconds, she felt Dewey's warm hands on her forearms, pulling her out from under Anthony's body.

She closed her eyes in relief as Dewey wrapped his arms securely around her. For the first time in hours, she finally felt safe... and for the first time in weeks, she finally felt like she was where she belonged.

"Oh my god, Gale..." Dewey exhaled. "I'm so sorry. I should have killed him right away. I just couldn't believe-"

"It's okay." She exhaled, sinking down against his chest. Nothing mattered except right now. They had both somehow survived, and that was all there was to it. It didn't matter how they got here. It just mattered that they were here.

"It isn't okay, Gale... He was hurting you. I just couldn't understand - couldn't believe I was seeing what I knew full well was happening. I hesitated when I should have shot him immediately. Gale... I'm so sorry." Dewey went on. "I can't believe he did this..."

"Dewey..." Gale leaned back long enough to stare into his eyes, to reassure herself that he was in fact here right now, alive and well and holding her safe and close. "How are you okay? How are you alive?" Gale whispered as she leaned her cheek against his chest and let him put his hand on the back of her head. "You were shot. Twice..."

"Just once." Dewey explained. He hugged her tighter. "Just in the shoulder. It's barely bleeding... The second shot didn't hit me. It scared me." He offered a nervous, embarrassed laugh. "I tripped and fell down the stairs. Must have hit my head. Next thing I knew, I woke up. You were gone... Henry was dead on the steps. Sheriff Lake..." He frowned... "And I heard you in here screaming... Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm okay... I think." Gale breathed.

Dewey pulled back and looked down at her. "You look terrible, Gale..."

Gale rolled her eyes and scoffed, but couldn't help the small smirk that rose on her lips. "Thanks, Dewey."

"I don't mean anything by that... I mean, you're beautiful, Gale. Stunning. You always are..." Dewey frowned and looked to the side for a moment as though he was embarrassed by his own words. "But I think you should go to the hospital. Your wrists..."

"I know..." She shook her head. "He had me tied down so tight... I had to get away. I guess I shouldn't have fought so hard to get free. It didn't do me any good."

Dewey held her hands in his, running his fingertips gently over the scrapes and bruises circling her wrists and frowning. "He sent me videos. Gale... I feel so sick about it. He probably sent them from right across the office. I got the first one at my desk and he was at his desk. He'd probably just sent it. I was right there with him. He came and went from the office and pretended he didn't know. I let him watch the video of you so he could help me find you... He probably got some kinda sick thrill from it. Gale... I feel so awful..."

"You didn't know, Dewey. It's okay now..." Gale assured him.

"It's not... He hurt you, Gale. I saw what he did... how he was touching you. Both of the videos he sent... I saw him... And just now... Gale, I'm so sorry he did this. I trusted him. I had no idea he was like this. Did it escalate any further than what I saw?" He asked.

Gale swallowed and shook her head. "No. It didn't... I mean, not much further. I guess he wanted to wait and try to win me over if he could... He wanted to... but he, uh..." She exhaled a trembling breath. "I think he honestly believed I might let him if his convoluted plan worked out - that I'd break up with you and be with him. He was waiting for that... There were a couple times when he almost just did it anyway, but he stopped himself. I think because he hoped I'd fall for him once he killed everyone and got to play hero. He didn't want to force himself on me because he thought eventually he wouldn't have to." She swallowed a lump in her throat and blinked away tears threatening to fall. "That's all that stopped him. Once he realized I wasn't ever going to be with him willingly, he didn't care anymore. He was really going to do it this time..." She whispered.

"Gale..." Dewey frowned down at her, hugging her against his chest again. "I'm so sorry."

She shook her head. "It's not your fault. You didn't make him do any of this."

"I should have paid more attention." He went on. "We should have been working together. You would have never been alone last night - waiting in the dark by yourself... I screwed up, Gale."

"So did I." Gale forced a laugh. "I'm an idiot, Dewey. I knew there was someone out there murdering people and I went to a warehouse on the edge of town where no one would notice any kind of commotion... and I sat out there by myself waiting on a ride I knew was over ten minutes away. That was careless. Almost cost me my life. And yours. He took me to get you here, Dewey. He wanted you dead so he could play the hero. He thought I'd be with him once you were gone."

Dewey shook his head. "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault Anthony was a disgusting bastard." Dewey glared down at his former-friend's corpse.

"Then it's not your fault either, Dewey." Gale reminded him.

He leaned back again, but kept his hands on her arms. "He hit you pretty hard on that video... Did he hurt you more than what I saw? You could have broken ribs and a concussion just from what he did in the video he sent. That was so needlessly violent. You were tied down... Gale... I'm so sorry. I wanted to find you but I didn't know where to start looking. I was so scared I'd never see you again."

"I'm okay, Dewey. I'll let a paramedic look me over. I think I hear the sirens. Unless that's just my ears ringing and I'm about to pass out." She joked with a weak laugh.

"Gale... I should have kept you closer." Dewey shook his head and hugged her tighter again.

She hugged him back and closed her eyes.

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	20. Chapter 20

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CHAPTER 20

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Though neither of their injuries were particularly serious, the doctors advised both Dewey and Gale to stay overnight. Dwight had hit his head falling down the stairs and the doctor was concerned that it took him several minutes to regain consciousness, and Gale, having been held prisoner for half a day and not taken very good care of by her captor was quite dehydrated and had a possible concussion of her own.

At their request, they were set up in a room together in the hospital. Dewey had a bed right next to hers, but it wasn't close enough. Instead, he elected to pull a chair up next to her bed and sit there.

Fortunately, Dewey's bullet wound to the shoulder wasn't serious. Gale had a couple cracked ribs and by struggling with the binds around her wrists, she'd scraped them up pretty badly. Her ankles suffered the same fate - but they would heal. As would the bruises on her cheek and arms and legs...

Dewey frowned as he ran his fingers carefully over her arm, stopping at the bandage wrapped around her wrist. Presently, she was asleep, with Dewey keeping watch over her. He knew he didn't have to. She was safe here. The killers were caught... But he couldn't bring himself to leave her side.

As soon as they were brought in to the hospital, they were treated in the emergency room. Dewey had remained in an adrenaline-induced state of awareness through it all as he did his best to watch over Gale while also updating and receiving updates from his fellow police officers. Gale had clearly been exhausted and kept falling asleep in between doctors and nurses coming by to treat her various injuries. Dewey wondered if she'd slept at all during her captivity. Dewey certainly hadn't.

Now that they were away from the chaos of the ER, Dewey was beginning to feel tired himself, but not tired enough to leave Gale's side.

Dewey felt incredibly guilty for this. He had trusted Anthony. He'd talked to the man, worked with him - while he was holding Gale hostage in a basement. Anthony had kidnapped her, terrorized her, and then come back and pretended like he wanted to help him find her. While Dewey was making phone calls and interviewing suspects, asking Anthony for his opinion on the case... Anthony was the culprit he was looking for. Between faking worry and care, Anthony was running back to the house, hurting Gale, scaring her, humiliating her, filming it... He had probably sent the e-mails with the videos from just feet away... and Dewey hadn't caught on.

He felt even worse because when he walked into the room where Anthony had been in the process of attacking Gale, Dewey couldn't even make sense of the scene at first. He saw that Anthony had her pushed down against the pool table. He heard her pleading with him and crying. He knew what was happening was not okay... but he couldn't understand. Why would Anthony do this? And then when Gale told him that his partner was one of the killers, Dewey just couldn't wrap his mind around it. He'd hesitated again, long enough for Anthony to draw a gun and nearly finish the job he started before Dewey could stop him.

Frowning, Dewey ran his finger tips carefully over finger-shaped bruises on Gale's arms. The ones around her forearms were dark and plentiful. Anthony had grabbed her so hard, and so many times. The bruises made that obvious even if Gale hadn't yet told him much about her time spent alone with Anthony. More bruises could be seen on her upper-arms, but the large, loose-fitting hospital gown's sleeves covered most of them up. The gown didn't mask the finger-shaped bruises on her neck.

Dewey put his fingers carefully on the discolored skin stretching over her throat. He felt angry thinking about how those bruises had gotten there. How could Anthony do this?

Still asleep, Gale gasped softly and flinched. Her brows furrowed and a sort of pout formed on her lips.

"Sorry..." Dewey whispered, quickly moving his hand back. Maybe the bruises were more sensitive than he thought. He frowned when he noticed her worried expression did not change.

With a grimace, Dewey put his hand lightly on her shoulder, trying to comfort her - to bring her out of whatever nightmarish thoughts were running through her head, causing her formerly peaceful expression to contort into one of fear and pain. She flinched and whimpered again.

Dewey moved his hand back. He wondered if he should wake her up. She had been fine until he touched her throat. He should have just left her alone. Now he felt even more guilty.

"Gale, you're okay. I'm here with you." Dewey spoke in a calm voice as he debated putting his hand on her arm or cheek. He wanted to be comforting, but the past couple times he'd physically reached out toward her, it hadn't quite had the desired affect.

He swallowed and reached toward her hand, gripping it carefully in his own. Her fingers and palm felt so small and delicate. He almost wanted to cry just thinking about how vulnerable she had been during the past day. Anthony wasn't someone Dewey would have ever wanted as an enemy. He was strong and physically imposing. He was taller than Dewey, worked out a lot more than Dewey did... and Gale was a fairly small woman. She hadn't stood a chance against him - especially not while tied down to a chair.

"Dewey." Gale's small voice whispered as she squeezed his hand back.

"Yeah. I'm here." Dewey smiled as she blinked her blue eyes open and looked up at him. She was smiling too, but still looked exhausted. "You're safe, Gale. Everything's over. You remember, right?" He frowned. She'd seemed almost disoriented back at the farmhouse.

"Yeah." She laughed. "I remember, Dewey. I wasn't drugged... Well, I was, but it was wearing off at the end."

"You were?" Dewey frowned.

Gale inhaled and exhaled a deep breath. "Yeah... He injected me with something. I'm sure it'll come back in the blood work... if it even matters at this point."

"So that's how he kidnapped you? By drugging you? I should have known he wasn't going to take Gale Weathers down without a fight," Dewey forced a smirk.

"He could have though. He was strong, Dewey." She frowned.

Dewey nodded. "I know."

Gale frowned and looked down toward the foot of the bed. Her brow furrowed as she stared ahead.

Dewey ran his thumb carefully over her palm as he leaned down enough to see her eyes. She looked like she was seconds away from crying. He frowned. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She breathed. Her lower lip trembled as she avoided looking directly at him.

Dewey's heart hurt for her. He wanted to ask her more about what she'd endured. He wanted to know everything, though he wasn't necessarily entirely sure why. It wasn't like he could do anything to change it or even seek any kind of revenge. Anthony was dead already. Even so, Dewey did want to know what exactly Gale had suffered through. Maybe so he would know how sensitive he needed to be about the situation. Maybe just to put his mind at ease, in a way. So all his greatest fears of what might have happened to her could be debunked.

He also wasn't sure how to ask for the full story. Was it his place to request it? This was Gale's trauma, and maybe he needed to sit back and let her talk on her own terms. Maybe pressuring her to talk about it so soon wasn't fair. Maybe he wasn't owed her story at all.

"He kept me in the basement." As if reading his thoughts, or perhaps just in an effort to vent, Gale started spilling details on her own, without him even having to ask. "I was tied to a chair. I guess you saw that part, on the videos he sent."

Dewey frowned and nodded. He chose to remain silent, to give her the space to speak as much as she wanted to.

"It was terrifying, but not necessarily constantly so..." She shrugged. "He only came downstairs a few times. Mostly just to film the videos he sent, so for a while, that was the extent of it. It seemed like he just wanted to scare and humiliate me, and I guess to show you what he was doing. Then the second time he was more violent - to motivate you to find me, I guess."

"I tried, Gale..." Dewey squeezed her hand. "Sheriff Lake recognized the wallpaper. I'd have never found you otherwise."

Gale squeezed his hand back. "He started off being vaguely threatening about the sexual part, pushing my skirt up my legs, pulling my shirt open, putting his hands on me... kind of implying that it would get worse if I fought with him... Grabbing and groping me as a sort of punishment if I fought back. For the most part, it kind of seemed like he wasn't even interested in that as much as he knew it would scare me. I mean, he could have done it... What would I have been able to do to stop him?" She looked back at Dewey and stuck her lower lip out in a pout.

Dewey frowned, but wasn't sure what to say. He had no comforting words to counter what she was saying.

"It didn't escalate too far until he lured Stanley to the house. Stanley found me, untied me... I knew it wouldn't end well." Tears welled up in her eyes again as her voice grew very soft as she looked away from Dewey again. "As soon as he arrived, I knew he was going to die. And I knew you were going to be next. Anthony said as much. That he'd kill anyone I cared about. He started with Stanley, and it was so violent..."

"I'm so sorry, Gale." Dewey whispered, putting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing lightly as he continued gripping her hand with his other hand. "I'm sorry that happened to you. To Stanley..."

Gale finally looked toward him and stared directly into his eyes. Her own eyes betrayed how much pain she felt in telling this story. "Stanley died trying to save me. He didn't have to come. He risked his life for mine... And Anthony killed him."

"You would have done the same for him." Dewey noted. "He was your friend."

Gale shrugged and shook her head. "Maybe I wouldn't have done the same for him, Dewey. I never let myself get close to him. I was determined not to care about him for this exact reason."

"You would have, Gale. You clearly care about him." Dewey assured her. "I know you like to think you're cold-hearted, but you aren't. And that's why Stanley knew risking his life was worth saving yours. He did it because he knew under your exterior you're a caring, gentle person. He made that choice and you don't need to feel bad about it. There was nothing you could have done."

Gale nodded. "As Anthony was stabbing him, Stanley told me to run, so I did..." She looked away again and swallowed back tears before continuing. "I was drugged. I could barely stand steadily. There was nothing I could do for Stanley, so I ran... Anthony chased me, caught me... and he..." She paused and inhaled a shaking breath. "He was really going to do it, Dewey. He told me if I didn't cooperate he'd hurt me..." She inhaled and exhaled a few more shaking breaths, swallowed, and clarified. "He was pretty blunt at that point. He said he was going to rape me, and he seemed to be trying to. He was going to do it. He pinned me against the ground, pried my legs apart... He started pulling at my clothes and everything. I thought for sure there wasn't going to be any way I could stop him. He seemed so serious that time, so mad..."

"What stopped him?" Dewey whispered. "How did you get away?"

Gale looked down further and shook her head. "I just cried, and begged... Told him I'd do what he said. He finally stopped."

Dewey swallowed and watched her staring down at her feet.

"I was so scared, Dewey..." She whispered.

"I know you were..." He frowned, squeezing her hand lightly. "It's over now. You're safe."

"Stanley didn't deserve that. And he was going to do the same thing to you. I was so scared he'd kill you, Dewey. When Stanley tried to save me, Anthony killed him so violently. I tried to help him. I couldn't. Anthony had drugged me with something. I could barely think, barely walk on my own... He was going to kill you too." Gale went on. "I don't know what I would have done... how I could live with myself..."

"I'm okay, Gale. So are you. We're gonna be fine." Dewey assured her.

"I know." She glanced toward him and offered a tight smile. "I was stupid to investigate on my own." She continued, shaking her head and looking down at her lap again. She squeezed his hand in hers. Dewey wondered if she even realized she was still gripping his hand. She hadn't acknowledged it, and didn't seem to be paying attention to anything but her thoughts. "Last night, after Cody was killed... I tried talking to you, and it didn't work well... Anthony offered to take me to coffee. I went with him all by myself. I barely even considered that it was a terrible idea. I had no idea, Dewey. I was an idiot. I should have learned by now not to trust people."

"I should have learned that too, Gale. I let you go off on your own the whole time you were here. I should have expected you'd be a target. I was so careless with you. I mean, I never would have thought Anthony could do something like this... but I should have worked with you. We work better together. We always have." Dewey told her.

Gale smiled. "We do. I wonder if it could have made a difference. Henry was a suspect in my book, but Anthony wasn't. I knew he was a creep right away though." She closed her eyes and shuddered.

"Really?" Dewey frowned.

"Yeah. On the way back from the coffee house... I guess you could call it flirting, but it was so awkward, and he looked almost mad when I got out of his car. Maybe he wanted to talk more? I guess I see now what his aim was... but in the moment, I just thought he was kind of creepy. I didn't know he had some master plan to steal me away from you." Gale offered a forced, tight smile.

"I wish we had a chance to discuss that, because in hindsight... he did seem to have a weird obsession with you. It wasn't obvious at the time, but he kept asking about our relationship, making comments about you being cute... If you'd told me he was being creepy, maybe we could have figured it out sooner."

Gale shook her head. "It doesn't matter. We can't change what already happened..."

"I wish we could." Dewey whispered.

"We can't. But we work with where we are." Gale looked up at him.

"Yeah? And where's that?" Dewey stared back nervously. He loved Gale. He cared about her so deeply it physically hurt. He wanted to be dating her for real - not this sorta kinda seeing each other while not talking for weeks at a time thing they'd got into the habit of recently. He wanted to be able to call her his girlfriend and know she wouldn't find any reason to disagree with that statement. He wanted them to be official.

"Right here, Dewey. Together." Gale squeezed his hand again. Dewey stared into her eyes. She actually looked nervous. Could it be the fearless Gale Weathers was more uncertain about where she stood with him than he was about where he stood with her? He always thought maybe he wasn't good enough for her, but she looked like she was wondering the same about herself. "I'm sorry I'm insensitive... that I reported on Cody's death like a vulture instead of being there for you. He was your friend." She sniffed back tears and looked away.

"Gale..." Dewey stood from his chair and settled on the mattress next to her. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "We were both kinda mean this time... We both took our jobs too seriously. But I'm not mad if you aren't... Gale, I'm not mad even if you are. I love you."

"You do?" Gale's eyes shone with tears as she looked up at him.

"Of course I do!" Dewey put his hand on her cheek and leaned in closer. "Only ever since the first second I laid eyes on you, Gale. You're so confident and beautiful and smart..."

"And cold-hearted and ruthless and-" Gale started.

Dewey leaned in closer, pulling her into a kiss that she gladly accepted. She kissed back, closing her eyes and leaning into him as he let one hand rest on her back and the other run carefully through her hair. When he leaned back, he saw she as smiling.

"Let's be together for real, Gale." Dewey suggested. "As an official couple. No more wondering if we're actually dating... No more distancing ourselves when we both know it's not what either of us want. Let's be honest. You mean everything to me. When I thought I might have lost you, when I saw those videos - had to watch him hurt you... I could feel my heart breaking. I don't ever want to be apart again."

Gale nodded, laughing a laugh that shook slightly with unshed tears.

"So we're official?" Dewey asked, putting his fingers on her chin and looking into her eyes. "And if something like this ever happens again, we'll work as a team. Solve it together. If one of us gets kidnapped, we both will."

Gale nodded and laughed again. "Yes, and yes."

Dewey smiled and pulled her into another hug. He leaned back against the pillow and smiled as she cuddled against him. Although they were in a hospital bed and Dewey had a bullet hole in his arm, he finally felt content. For the moment, this was exactly where he wanted to be - right next to Gale, seeing and feeling that she was safe and sound, and knowing their futures would include each other.

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End file.
